


the butterfly that dreams of a fool

by masamune11



Series: we are all butterflies on different stages [2]
Category: Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona Series, Persona | Revelations Persona
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Crossover, Does this even count as a crack pair? I'm not sure, Gen, Heavy Theory, Mention of Katsuya Suou, Naoya Toudou as emissary of order or super-ego, Note: this is the manifestation of author's self-indulgence in crossover themes, Schizoprenic Theme
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-12 02:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2092212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masamune11/pseuds/masamune11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life of Hamuko Arisato was pretty much ordinary, really. Some people just got too worked up over the fact that she could see or hear what others couldn’t. Like that masked man who always waited up on the bench of Naganaki Shrine for as long as she remembered. Or the voice inside her heart that was always honest and so wise. Or the fact that she stopped apocalypse from happening at a tender age of 10.</p><p>-</p><p>In which she was the Fool, accompanied with the Emperor and Death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adagio

**Author's Note:**

> I was about to write things about Yu and the InvesTeam, but Hamuko's plot bunnies just _happen_ , so I'm writing about her instead. And I'm not going to promise you that this will end in only two chapters, given how great that was in my previous story, lol.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamuko underwent a gradual change in her early life--from meeting a weird man in mask to the tragedy of her family.
> 
> Oh, and did you know that she actually had an adopted brother?

She had known Naganaki Shrine for her entire life.

Her earliest fond memory, along with other memories that came after, about that place was of gentle spring wind and warm sunlight. Her parents would accompany her during one of those beautiful days, so that she may play like a healthy young girl should. Sometimes. She would meet and play with other children, sharing places and games alike. Some other times, her innocent bravery would push her to defend the weak against bullies. In turn, she would usually receive a quiet thank you from the victim, a silver-haired boy even younger than her, before said boy scurried away from the playground.

But her meeting with a man with mask in that place might have left the most impression in her short life.

It was not really a fated meeting, _per se_ , given that she had only witnessed five winters before they met. The man—if he could be called a man at all; shouldn't men have shorter hair rather than tied ponytail?—was looking at the shrine. He might be praying, but Hamuko never witnessed him shaking the bells, nor did he clapped his hand and made praying gesture. How should one pray without awakening the sleeping gods?

When he turned to her, his warm eyes was quickly on her own (she could feel his affection; for a single moment, she felt favored) despite having half of his own face covered with a butterfly mask. Hamuko quickly felt at ease; even when the stranger scooted over to greet her, something inside her hummed: _he's a good man, my darling self._

She always trusted that voice in her heart. It was never wrong, and now it shouldn't be either.

The man slowly knelt so that he may gaze at her levelly. A kind smile graced his lips, "Have you come to look for me?"

She blinked unsurely, because it should be wrong. She expected her friends to be here, not some stranger. But the voice inside her heart told her to nod, so she did so. Hamuko always trusted her heart the most after all.

The man continued smiling and consecutively pats her head, a reminiscence of affectionate gestures that her family used to give. She did not like it though, so she quickly patted that hand away; her mom once told her not to talk with strangers. The man seemed taken aback, though she could sense amusement on his part.

"My, aren't you shy," he chuckled and eventually stood. She saw him glowing briefly, which didn't scare her but still made her surprised. "Nevertheless, I believe a friend of yours really needs some cheering."

As if on his queue, she could hear the footsteps of her friends as they climbed the shrine's staircase. Hamuko quickly turned her attention towards those footsteps. The first person she saw was that silver-haired boy whom she saved the other day. The other footsteps, however, did not belong to some others whom she expected. Instead of her usual girls, she saw a woman as old as her mom, smiling at her so oddly that perhaps she did not actually have the heart to do that. Her long silver hair was an absolute detail that gave her away as the young boy’s mother.

The boy was clinging on to his mother’s feet like a baby koala to its parent, and it seemed to irk her more than it should be (she gasped a bit when the mother actually pulled her son by his shirt just to make him go away). After some coaxing, the boy seemed to loosen his grip and eventually inched away from his mother, as she quickly reached out to her phone and drowned herself in talks and gossips with whoever she was talking with.

Hamuko wanted to hit her just because of _that_.

"Wow mister,” she mused, still looking at the dejected young boy, now sitting on the seesaw alone. “I don’t know how you do it, but you’re right.”

There was no reply, which made Hamuko turned. The spot which he occupied was now empty.

“Mister?”

She could hear the voice in her heart chuckled, a soft rumbling melody that told her to ‘ _stop looking so foolish and do what he said_ ’.

Though she was baffled with how he disappeared when he was just standing next to her, Hamuko eventually approached the silver-haired boy, who had been staring at her owlishly at her, with a bright smile on her face.

That day, she would learn that the name of this boy was Yu Narukami. Later, she would also learn about how his family was so busy that little Yu was left with nannies, but they loved him all the same anyway—or so Yu believed. It did not make sense to her, because parents were supposed to pat and hug and kiss and cuddle; anything less than that wasn’t _love._

When she said this to him, Yu only smiled sadly. It really made her wanting to kick him or something because ‘ _no one shouldn’t smile so sadly like that’._ Hamuko even proposed to go with him and tell his parents to give him more hugs.

Yu Narukami would mutter a thank you, then Hamuko would reply with a smile and ask whether he wanted to play some more. When he nodded, she quickly grabbed his hand to drag him to the monkey bar.

She could feel a tingling of static shock whenever their hands touched. Every time that happened, the voice inside her hummed knowingly, saying that the boy smelled of thunder.

It was alright, Hamuko thought to herself, to the voice inside her; she was never scared of a little thunder.

* * *

She was seven years old when her parents told her that she would have a brother.

At first, Hamuko thought that they are going to have another little baby, which meant she would have a little brother to swoon and be proud of (when he gets older, maybe she could tell him around to do her chores, _muhahaha_ ). But her mother still remained without bulging stomach. She once threw that question to her mother, to which she chuckled and laughed. _You will know soon, alright sweetie?_ And with those words, it’s back to mystery for her.

When the quiet young boy with blue hair entered their living room, she got an eerie hunch about how wrong her presumption was.

She remembered the details of the living room of their home down to the pattern of the tablecloth (it was blue, just like that boy’s blue hair), and how he stood there, so thin and frail and _grim_. The man with him, who was as tall as her father but seemed so strict with that brown hair, that sharp stare, and that flashy police badge, had been talking with her parents. Sometimes later, her mother would tell her to go to sleep (it was past her bedtime anyway), to which she outright refused. Her mother then gave an irritated look, and it spoke volumes to her, because that look meant _no more midnight snacks._

Contrary to popular opinion, she backed down quite easily from that glare. She loved her midnight snacks too much to risk it.

So with a slumped shoulder, the young girl dragged herself back to her room. The voice inside her chastised her, telling her to go back because _it is important, my dear self!_ Well, Hamuko was not going to sacrifice the rest of her midnight snack just because the voice wanted her to meet this unknown boy. Definitely no.

Without thinking further, the young girl quickly scrambled to her bed, despite the protests of the voice inside her.

That same night, she dreamed of a golden butterfly.

* * *

The boy’s name was Minato Yuki, and he was here to stay.

Her mother told her that Minato previously lived in Sumaru City, which was pretty much faraway from Iwatodai. His parents died not long ago, and there were no other relatives whom he could go to, so the police officer who came to her home previously (apparently, he was a friend of Minato's dad’s as well) asked for a favor and sent the boy to the next best thing: _her family_. Her mother had agreed, while his father even bought the idea foremost; something about preserving brotherhood and such.

Hamuko was not actually against the idea. Sure, she’d really like a brother; sometimes it felt so lonely to be alone when all of her friends boasted about their older siblings, or perhaps talked about how cute their little siblings were. Yet she did not feel especially settled with the fact that she would get an _older_ brother. To make matter very awkward? Said brother was only older by hours (apparently they shared the same birthday date, only differing in _hours_ of birth).

To make matter even more worse (for her, so far); he was supposed to stay at her room… because there was simply no other room to occupy. Hamuko raged—or rather, _threw a tantrum—_ when her dad told her so, to which he only closed his ears and declared that the decision was final.

In the end, she had to share room with him. It was her mother’s idea, really, because her baby was still little anyway, and it would probably give both of them the time to bond like a brother and sister should… except Hamuko did not really want to share _her bed with someone else_. Her father solved the problem with a spare bed from storeroom, tucked neatly under hers.

It seemed her parents were pretty much adamant with their sleeping arrangements, and given how she obtained her stubbornness from those two, Hamuko wouldn’t even try to convince them otherwise.

Lying on her own bed, she finally took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried her best to ignore the boy who was lying on the lower bed. But she was too tensed to actually sleep at all, especially with a brother whom she needed to know more but seemed to sleep early than herself—

“Hey.”

Hamuko yelped; it was a little bit out of character even for her, but that was _surprising_. She never expected the boy to talk to her at all (she tried talking to him previously, but it seemed that he rather hide somewhere rather than confronting her), and now the boy was the one to _greet the ball and run with it_.

She quickly turned to face her supposed brother and glared at his eerie gray eyes. His blank expression did not win her any good impression, “what?”

He seemed to pause for a moment, perhaps pondering what to say. Eventually, Minato bit his lips, his gaze lowered as though offering an apology, “...I’m really sorry if I offend you… or anything…”

Hamuko blinked once, twice, then thrice… until she realized just what made him feeling so… awkward. Later, she would fall down into a fit of giggles. Her supposed brother seemed to grow more confused with this turn of event as he muttered something about, _‘did I do something wrong’_ or ‘ _why are you laughing at me?'_

The young boy blinked awkwardly at him. Like a fool.

 _But he’s not,_ the voice inside her heart sing-sung, _he is not the fool, my darling self_.

She halted her giggling fit altogether and ignored those words completely. The voice was talking about nonsense _again_ , but she kicked it out of her thoughts as quickly as it rose.

“It’s not that,” Hamuko chuckled; her red eyes were now completely on his figure, her hands had stretched to prop her head on the bed, so that she could converse levelly with her brother. “You just don’t speak much, so I don’t actually know what to say,” she grinned.

Hamuko swore she could see a faint pink tinge covering his cheeks, “...Ah, I don’t really know what to say,” he commented, clearly trying to hide embarrassment but failing anyway. The moonlight that shone from her window illuminated every facial detail of his.

“Mister Cat suddenly came to and told me that I’m moving… and before I know, now I’m living with Arisato-jiisan. ...I mean dad.” Another awkward pause, and said boy rubbed his eyes in frustration, “....ugh, I mean the family."

She couldn’t understand why Minato whispered the last parts like that, not when she got curious with his other words, like that cat. “Mister Cat?"

Minato nodded, "the person who dropped me yesterday."

"Oh. You mean that police _nii-san_..."

He nodded again in response, and Hamuko hummed, “But why call him cat? He has no cat-ears or anything." Her eyes widened as though she had arrived with the perfect explanation, "don't tell me he's a cat ranger?!"

She was expecting any emotion to reflect in his face (laughter, maybe?), but he continued to stare at her with that blank stare. It easily unnerved her, and eventually made her pout, "Did I say something wrong? Or maybe he’s a dog ranger instead of cat?"

She didn't get any definite reply for a few seconds. But when she saw his lips twitched a little bit and how he quickly covered the lower half of his face with both of his hands, Hamuko knew that the boy was downright giggling.

Hamuko frowned. "What's so funny?"

Eventually, Minato stopped giggling, though traces of amusement still lingered on his face, "the way you said it... cat... and ranger..." he snickered for a moment and eventually smiled, "he says he hates cats, but Katsuya-niisan always left some leftovers for kittens outside his home... Does that make him a cat ranger?"

Her displeased expression slowly warped into something similar to thinking, the edge of her lips stretched to form a smile. "Sounds fitting for a cat ranger."

Both of them continued their giggling fits, with Hamuko ending hers first. She hummed softly, her red eyes meeting his grey. Minato stopped, his smile didn't falter.

"You're not bad for an older brother, Minato-kun."

Another chuckle, and a gaze warmer than the one she previously received, "you're nice enough for a sister."

She could feel a soft hum inside her, the voice inside her heart quietly whispered of lullaby. But then the voice giggled, _he's death waiting to happen._

She tried her best to ignore it; sometimes the voice sounded stupid. Some times.

* * *

They bonded together so quickly that even their parents were surprised that they didn’t tear each other apart.  In one week, they were acquainted enough to call each other with suffixes, sometimes for real, sometimes just for teasing. They would play together in the shrine, usually together with the silver-haired boy around the corner. They talked about many things, built many sandcastles, and played everything available in that place. She picked the best time to play as well; they always managed to dominate the whole playground for themselves.

Once, she would tell them about butterflies that sometimes graced the shrine. She would speak about how she spotted yellow butterflies everywhere: in her room, in the kitchen, or even when they were playing together. Sometimes, Hamuko would also talk about how those butterflies would linger next to a man with butterfly mask, who had been sitting on the bench near the monkey bars every time they went to the Shrine.

When he was there (which was _always_ ), she would point at him to show and tell them that his name was Philemon, but she liked to call him Phil instead (too mouthful, she thought). Every time she talked about it. Yu and would later glance at the young girl awkwardly, telling her that there was no one there.

She thought them stupid, at first, but when she saw the man putting two of his fingers on his lips, she decided to bite her tongue. _Don't tell anyone,_ he seemed to say. Her trusted voice seemed to agree, as it began humming some soothing melody that she never heard. In the end, Hamuko only grumbled, muttering something like _stupid boys why are you all so blind_ —

But at least that man smiled at her; somehow, Hamuko felt that she had decided something important.

* * *

She was eight years old when her parents died.

Hamuko was never with her parents when they crashed to their deaths. The young Arisato was actually on a sleepover with one of her friends, and her family was supposed to pick her up sometimes during midnight (because that’s the only time available for them). Minato Arisato, being a good brother he was, persisted to join in.

But they never got to pick her up. She noticed this already, because her friend’s parents would have woken her up when they arrived that night. Hamuko was woken up on the next morning, though.

They told her to dress up. She wanted to ask what went wrong, because Hamuko could sense the panic and confusion in the air; try as hard as they want, she knew what a false smile when she saw one (at least, the voice inside her said so. Apparently, it hadn't been spouting nonsense since several days ago). The young couple was flashing those smiles, and it made her stomach churned with dread.

She was quickly out of the bedroom, leaving her sleeping friend as she did. Following the couple to the living room, she was told to sit down—to which she complied—and they slowly broke the news to her.

_Disaster stroke. Her parents died in a car crash. Her brother survived._

The next hours passed like a blur. She remembered about entering the car, being driven to a hospital, and watching nurses and doctors passed by in the corridors. The heavy news still hung in her conscience and had yet to sink in as her psyche could not comprehend the gravity of this, at all. The usual voice inside of her did not even make a sound, as though it was silenced by the news.

So she watched the white wall, the people whom had been walking in and out, pass and through, away and near, not caring at all, because she could not understand; her parents couldn’t just _go away,_ they loved _them_ too much for that. The reality she was in did not make sense—those nurses who comforted her on her bench did not make sense, because her parents _are not dead_ —

—‘ _because time waits for no one, and it will eventually herd all living things to death._ ’

The words rang inside her, freezing her heart away from pain. Amidst her mental debilitation, she could feel someone’s hands gripping her hand strongly, securely, as though she was about to fall. Her glazed red eyes slowly rose to her right… to _Philemon_. There was no smile, no glint of playfulness; his face was a perfect facade that could not be read, and it was like seeing at a bottomless pit. But his grip on her shoulder remained, and it was enough for her to know that this man was _very_ sorry for what happened to her.

Despite being invisible to other people, despite being so secretive, despite being his only _material_ friend—

“You are a brave girl,” he spoke, the words sounded so much like the voice inside her, right down to the tone and pitch. Perhaps this man was _it,_ and he never left her at all. Perhaps… he was the real manifestation of the voice inside her. His hand slowly brushed the tears away, “But never be afraid to cry.”

Hamuko gasped and closed her lips with her hand as she tried to stop the wailing agony that had been unleashed by grief and sorrow. But the man simply shrugged her hand away and shook his head and smiled gently.

“It will be alright.”

So she wailed.

* * *

Hamuko and Minato were almost nine years old when they were sent to orphanage.

After their parents’ death, they were effectively sent to the orphanage until officer Kurosawa located her relatives… or at least those who were eager to take care of two additional children in their family. She was promised several days for information, but as days dragged on into weeks of no information, Hamuko just could not bring herself to care.

Every night in her waiting, she would cry herself to sleep, because whenever she closed her eyes, Hamuko pictured the face of her parents together, smiling so happily in their last vacation. Sometimes, her scream was so loud that it woke the den mother up and made her tried to calm Hamuko down. Other times, she would cry so silently that no one really noticed, so she was left alone to grieve until there were no tears left for the night.

There were also times that her brother would sneak into her room and comforted her sobbing form as best as he could. Whenever he did, she remembered of colossal moon sitting on the heavens as though it was ready to fall down, and how everything turned green and red. But she never really _cared_ , because _she was grieving_ , and she needed his voice—so gentle and soothing like her own father—as her anchor to bind her to reality and his hugs— as firm as her mother’s hugs—would to remind herself that _affection never died_.

Sometimes, she would look up to see his face and noticed how tears were welling in his _blue_ eyes. Too blue to be Minato’s, she thought for a moment, because she remembered his gray eyes meeting her red ones in the night of their meeting.

Somewhere inside her, the voice hummed again, a warning: _My dear self, it is too late. Death has come for you._

Hamuko never understood what it meant, so she ignored it and took whatever comfort his brother could offer with a desperate crushing hug.

* * *

Hamuko was nine years and one month old when her guardian angel returned, though different than who she used to remember.

Perhaps it was fate that brought her to Naganaki Shrine once again, her small legs dangling from the bench where she sat. She was not bothered with the cool wind, nor the lack of kids playing that afternoon. In fact, the quiet was better for her, because she would have thrown tantrum in noisy place instead of taking things calmly. Unlike her brother.

Hamuko bit his lips; thinking of her brother only brought back the memories of things that happened in that night—and the fact that her parents had gone with it. Such change… she clearly was still unable to comprehend that her life had and would change for the rest of her life.

A yellow butterfly passed at the edge of her vision, and as quickly as it went by, she could feel a sudden presence of a person sitting next to her. Hamuko did not waste a moment to turn and identify the only one who could do that: him. Or, as she dubbed, _her guardian angel;_ always following her around without asking too many questions, but still unnoticeable even by her friends. Some shunned her because of that, but must she care at all? Those kids never understood that he is as real as the voice in her heart.

She glared at the young man, who was shorter than she remembered. Appearing out of nowhere is definitely not a good habit. “...why did you do that?” she pouted, but the man only cocked his head, his butterfly mask glinted, as if asking mutely of what she meant. Hamuko only pointed her hands to the seat, “You startled me.”

The man looked at her; there was a glint of amusement in that brown eyes beneath the slits of his butterfly mask. He stayed his voice though, and watched how the young girl’s face turned more irritated.

“What, what’s so funny?” she grumbled, but the man only shook his head. Come to think of it, he had not even said a word about anything since his arrival. So Hamuko frowned and asked, "Say something, will you?”

The young man regarded her for a moment, and for a moment, Hamuko could feel the faint whispers of the wind… but it was so subtle that she couldn’t make it. When it stopped, the young man stood, looked at her oddly, before vanishing in a golden light, leaving the young girl dumbstruck and alone.

So much for company.

The next day, he was back again in the same spot, still observing her as she walked into the shrine with head held low. When her red eyes caught his silhouette, her expression quickly turned from sadness to annoyance. But she kept on walking anyway. And sat next to him. And be silent. Alright, she wasn’t actually being silent with her stomps and grumbles, but who wouldn't when anyone left just like that?

"What are you doing here again? I don’t need you disappearing like that again." She grumbled. _Just like mother and father._

Of course, the last bit was never voiced.

Hamuko kept her gaze away from the masked man, but another flutter of butterfly wing was enough for her to snap her attention back; the feeling of those flutters intensified, forming soft whispers that finally made sense... if she just stopped and listened.

_I think you need some company._

The words... they didn't sound the same as the previous man-with-mask. It sounded even younger, like an older brother (but not Minato; older, so much older than him).

When she looked at him, the lower half of his mask was already gone, revealing a goofy smile. The brown eyes that were shown beneath the slits seemed to twinkle in delight, as if recognizing her effort to listen and _pay attention_.

Ah yes, she’d been doing that pretty poorly lately ( _because mom is gone dad is gone minato is different yu is different—)_

"...oh, that’s good. Now you can hear me,” the smile was sincere, as far as Hamuko noticed. The half-masked man leaned, so that they could speak levelly, “I think you’ve been sad for too long, young girl.”

Hamuko scowled; what could an invisible man knows about sadness, anyway? He’s not the one whose parents died in a car crash. “So you mean it’s wrong to miss my father and mother? Well you’re just another jerk then, and I shall not hear another word from jerks like you.”

The man’s eyes softened as he stood up again, so that he could take a more comfortable position by kneeling in front of her. For a moment, she wondered if this man treated her like a princess—or maybe a petulant child instead.

“It’s okay to miss them,” his eyes for a moment glinted with violet hue, “but sometimes later… you’ll have to accept that they are gone. It will hurt, but—” his hand reached to hers, holding them together to muster enough comfort, “—you have your brother. You have your best friend. You have me. I know you can pull through, alright.”

Hamuko would really love to scowl at this man, who had disappeared yesterday in the midst of their conversation, even she could feel the facts sinking in—that her parent were not going to be with her anymore, that her brother would forever be more muted than she would ever remember, and that Yu would always looked up to her despite everything that happened—and made her head clearer.

She could feel another wave of fresh tears welling in her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away. Hiding behind her own hands, she glared at the young man again and mumbled, “you never told me your name, and you’ve made me cry,” she grinned “you’re certainly a jerk…”

His smile turned into a smirk, and she could see how the violet gleam of his eyes reverted back to natural brown.

“I’m Naoya Toudou,” he spoke, his name triggered the voice inside her to hum the melody of souls… and it felt so soothing to feel its beat in her veins, “Phil sent me in his stead, because you were so sad… and now I can see why he worries.”

Now she really wanted to punch him, because the cocky smile was really getting under her skin. The song inside her be damned; this person needed to tone down his teasing note. “how would I know if he could even _worry_?” she grumbled, her red eyes were a little bit puffy but remained glaring at him, “He rarely talks, and the one time he _did_ , _I_ cried. Are you guys in the _grand club of jerks_ that I should know of?”

Naoya seemed to almost crack at that, but managed to regulate his breathing and eventually gave a secretive smile, “well no, because no jerks will stand by you when hardships happened in your life.”

He grasped her hands again, and Hamuko knew how serious he was, “and I’m no jerk. I will stand by your side, as long as I am permitted to.”

It was weird to have a stranger whom she never knew suddenly pledged his loyalty to her, as though he had known her from the very start.

But the voice inside her hummed approvingly, a gentle voice in the midst of the now triggered music of her soul. She had learnt to trust her instinct about people in general. It had been easier that way.

* * *

She was almost ten years old when she met Makoto.

When she met the boy for the first time, the music inside her screeched like a psychotic violin notes. It wasn’t enough to send her reeling, but she was caught massaging her temples by her older brother. Later, said older brother would bombard her with questions about her health, of which she was tempted to throw back at him. Perhaps his common sense was hurt, because one sane person simply does not pick a random boy and brought him to the orphanage.

When asked about the possibility of his parents looking for the boy, she remembered the vacant look and bemused expression of Minato Arisato as he replied, “…ah, I never thought of that.”

Sometimes she really felt that it is justified to hit her brother on the face for his absolute ignorance towards many things in life.

She talked about this to Naoya, who became some sort of confidante aside of Yu. The convenient thing about having an invisible ( _magical_ , Hamuko reminded herself) confidante was no one would talk to him (Philemon aside). Meaning, Naoya was the perfect secret keeper, so she didn’t really hold back when she talks about it.

The masked man would then listen to and regard her carefully; his brown eyes glanced at her intensely as though trying to absorb every detail of body language that she exhibited. When she was done, Naoya hummed, but his fingers itched.

“…tell you what,” he mused, but even then, Hamuko knew that Naoya hesitated to tell her, “I think you should spend more time with him. You know… get to know with each other. It won’t hurt to widen your circle of friends, will it?” Another smile. “Maybe you should try the Persona Game. That should bring you all together.”

The idea stuck up in her mind like an unfit puzzle piece, but Hamuko nodded eventually. She could not deny what her confidante had pointed to her; given that Makoto was probably bound to stay (there had been no signs of his parents searching for him, so…), she might as well made him part of the entourage.

She never realized that it was the beginning to her end.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece of work is inspired by this particular video:
> 
>   * [Psycho Violin Screech](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vfthzU3V4zo)
> 

> 
> And yes, I am serious about that piece.


	2. Allegretto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persona Game is a game for children. It doesn't work, it certainly does not make one see their future self, and it's a complete waste of her time. It's a good thing that Philemon was there to refute that.
> 
> Oh, Orpheus too; her existence seems to refute that as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story took a while to be written, but I think it's for the best. Worklife has been hectic these days, so I don't really have the time to write--nor the muse, sometimes.
> 
> But alas, enjoy!

She heard rumors about Persona Game, even before Naoya came to her and offered.

Some of the children living near the shrine told her about the how they could meet with their future selves by playing the game. Others questioned the legibility of that rumor, claiming that the ritual “never worked” and “was just a waste of time”. She was quite inclined towards the latter group; if some other people had tried and nothing happened, surely the game was purely just that. Her brother, on the other hand…

Hamuko let out a long sigh and glared at her brother, who was currently sitting on her bed and grinning like a Cheshire cat. If it was on any other day, she would have been ecstatic to see him this happy. But the fact remained that Minato was overly eager about the game.

Overly excited Minato tended to spite her in ways unimaginable to her mind. In this particular case, the receiving end was her wallet and her ego.

"Goodness Minato, stop grinning like that! You might lose your cheek if you kept on doing that!" She huffed and leaned back on her study seat—which was actually her friend's—and quickly shuffled through the items which were laid on the bed before them. There were four ‘Phantom of the Opera’ masks, all in white cartons, with each of them in between her fingertips. One would know that they were still plain, waiting from some artistic touches.

"Tell me again why we need to use them," she glared at the items, as though they were at fault. "You have no idea how they're hurting my wallet."

Minato cleared his throat and raised his right hand to stop her from saying anything else. "Patience, sister. It is, after all, a necessary investment for our adventure."

She gaped at him, as if Minato had grown second head. "Did you just say that _this_ ," she gripped the four masks and shoved it in front of the boy, "is an _investment_?!"

Another word foreign to children's tongue. Well, she did play with older people (Naoya and... Philemon?), and she needed big words to stress her point.

Hamuko really hoped that Minato would display some sort of guilt, but when his calm grey eyes stared at her imploringly, Hamuko just _knew_ that talking about this might have been the biggest mistake in her childhood life. Minato slowly clapped his hand, intertwining his fingers with each other and made a thoughtful expression; his gaze never left hers, and she certainly did not miss the mischievous and _determined_ twinkle in his eyes.

“Hamuko-chan, you were the one who brought this up, that we should try playing Persona Game _even though_ you think it is ridiculous,” the young boy lifted an eyebrow, as his lips slowly transformed from a small smile to another wide grin. “So it should make sense for you to back up our spending.”

She huffed in exasperation; why must he be so… _cheeky_?! “But you guys are also playing!” she growled and pointed and shoved the items again to the bed, “so everyone must contribute! Now, pay up!”

“What must we pay up?”

Hamuko nearly yelped and turned at the source of her horror. Makoto was standing at the front of her door. She swore, maybe she should consider buying him a bell; the boy was good in hiding his presence.

His blue eyes looked up to her for explanation. When he didn’t get what he looked for, his attention quickly turned to Minato, who was still grinning ear-to-ear.

“You remembered our talk about Persona Game?” Minato asked at first, to which Makoto nodded. “Well, we’ve already prepared some stuff to use for the game. Hamuko-chan said that she’s going to pay up for the items.”

When Makoto’s expression changed from general excitement to _delight_ , Hamuko almost purposefully stepped on Minato’s right foot; said young boy gracefully avoid her wrath and threw her another smug smirk, to which the young girl fumed. She was really going to hit her brother on the head when Makoto made an impressed noise.

“That’s very kind of you, Hamuko- _neesan_ ,” he beamed like any other 7-years-old boys would do. Hamuko paled, gazing back at the little one, then to Minato (who was still maintaining that _smug smirk_ of his), her heart cursing the world for putting her in this situation.

Despite being a stingy girl in general ( _considerate_ , Naoya would tease her), Hamuko could not refuse such ecstatic and eager request.

“Ugh, FINE!” she threw her hands to the air, clearly too fed up to even say anything else and quickly walked towards the nearest door. She stopped for a mere moment and turned at her brother, throwing the most annoyed look… which slowly transformed into a vengeful smirk as an idea struck her, “be the smug brother you are, Minato- _niisan_. Let’s see how happy you are when I throw away your comic book collections!”

Hamuko swung the door close strongly with a loud _‘BAM’_. She would have laughed evilly if she had seen Minato’s gaping face or Makoto’s bemused expression. But she did smirk when she ran off from her own room as she heard Minato’s frantic cry of ‘ _Wait—I ask for Parley!’_

She did not waste another breath to turn back and rethink her terms.

* * *

It was the second week of spring when they decided to gather and test the theory.

They decided to gather around in the Naganaki Shrine in the evening after they finished their tasks. Her brother and his newfound friend were tasked to retrieve several stuffs before proceeding to the game. Truthfully, Hamuko did not really care about the details as she had half-given up the idea when the game didn’t work—according to some of her sources—so she decided to delegate the tasks to ‘more willing party’.

The sun was setting when she reached the shrine. Some people had proceeded to exit the place after finishing their respective businesses. Amongst those people, she noticed Naoya’s silhouette, still on the same bench where she met him all days ago.

He always stayed at the same spot—at the same place even—that Hamuko thought he is a ghost that resided in this shrine. Maybe he was the protector of the city, just like Philemon (because the other man seemed to appear only here). She could not think of any other explanation.

The young man was waiting on that bench, still wearing a half-faced mask with golden graving of butterfly wings. Unlike their first meeting, Naoya was wearing a snuggly gray parka and a pair of black trousers, different from the high-school attire that he wore in their first meeting.

…but did he really wear high-school attire that time?

(She could not recall the details surrounding that man. It was as though everything about him blurred as she tried to specify—what did he wear, how he came to her, all those details escaped her memory like grasping water. Hamuko never experienced this in her short life, which brought her to the real questions: _how and why._ )

She shook her head as she refocused her list of priorities. The voice inside her started humming the same song, prodding her to attract his attention _somehow_. Hamuko simply pushed the urge; she was quite optimistic that he would notice her sooner or later. Heck, with him sitting there, it was particularly crystal clear that Naoya was waiting for her. Like usual.

He noticed her presence and waved his hand. At his cue, Hamuko did not wave back, but she quickly approached the young man and took a seat beside him. She had learned enough not to attract other’s attention by seemingly waving at thin air.

She sat quietly, feeling the gaze of that man on her every move. Her red eyes sometimes stole a glance at the man—the man whose pledge of loyalty made their encounters _really_ awkward, though maybe it was all due to herself. What must a girl do when faced with such request anyway? She was just ten years old!

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to dunk her head in the nearest pond. She was going to do that if there really was a pond, but since there's none whatsoever, she settled with rubbing her face and letting out a heavy sigh instead. Unfortunately for her, it earned Naoya’s attention, which forced the girl to look straight ahead, _avoiding him altogether_ , so that she could recover her composure.

Thank god she did gain back some form of it when he spoke afterwards.

“Did something happen today?” He asked; his voice was both level and curious. She could get used to having him around, filling the daily concerns that were usually voiced by her father—

_—‘stop right there. Don’t think about it.’_

“Nothing important, I supposed,” she stole a glance at him. Sometimes she imagined this young man lifted an eyebrow at her because of her vague answer, but that mask concealed every facial expression so closely that she could not read him thoroughly. At this point, all she trusted was her instinct… meaning, the voice inside her.

“Oh. Then why the long face? Why the tense shoulders?” his brown eyes seemed to twinkle with curiosity and mischief, “don’t tell me you got scared with the game?”

Hamuko growled visibly; why must people choose this day to push all the wrong buttons of her?

“Of course not!” she quickly countered before the man came up with more ridiculous accusations. Why couldn’t people see that she was not really into the game now that she knew nothing would happen? “Why should I be afraid of a simple little game? Seriously, Naoya-niisan, you should have picked better game idea for us to play.”

For a moment, she could see a looming shadow on his mask… and how Naoya’s brown eyes flickered to violet in one moment, a sliver of ache reflected on those purplish orbs, before turning back to that soft brown hue. As it happened, the man abruptly froze; Hamuko needed no expert to know that she had said something wrong or misplaced. Yet in a moment, his expression transformed back into a chuckle.

It was probably just her imagination.

“I’m not sure I could give you better recommendation than… well, Persona Game,” he mused, "after all, it will not sit well on my conscience should anything bad happen to you and your friends."

There was a long pause, to which Hamuko blinked. Did Naoya just imply that the game was the less adventurous compared to his list? Did he have a list at all?

Naoya seemed to catch on the unsaid questions that bugged his mind, and smiled bemused, "Oh yes, I have several other games in mind, though I'm pretty sure any of you won't get out unscathed from that. I know several of my _friends_ didn't."

She did not know what faze her the most: his neutrally bemused explanation, the fact that he had a list of potentially dangerous games for children, or the other fact that he had friends at all. Her confusion seemed to show on her face, because Naoya seemed to smirk back at her. She sighed.

"Now I'm really glad you did not bring up that list of yours. Did you know how freaking ecstatic Minato was with the idea? That brother of mine was completely _rabid_ ," she shuddered as the image of her brother flashed in her mind, all smiles and curious and creepy. She was with him for two years and she never knew that Minato is deeply attracted to the occult.

Then again, everything was perfectly well-guarded behind that poker face.

"You should have seen his smirk. He smiles sometimes, yes, but he never downright _smirks_ , as if he had invented the cruelest way to torment me with those pranks of his! You have no idea how this deeply unsettles me," Hamuko groaned, her hands already scratching her head as if trying to banish the thoughts of her brother utterly and completely, "ugh, I can't even think how to deal with this in the future."

She could hear the young man besides her trying to contain his laughter. However, even after fully covering his mouth with both of his hands, Naoya could not hold back the giggles that followed after. Hamuko grumbled and literally punched his arm, effectively shutting him up with a yelp and a squirm. Before he could protest, Hamuko sent him her death glares.

"Suits you right, you jerk," she fumed and cross her arms, "I was being serious."

"And you wonder why most of your friends stayed away," he grumbled, brushing his aching arm and ignored the rest of her death glares almost nonchalantly. "But look at the bright side. Now you all can play together—and try something challenging for a change."

"As if anything _dangerous_ will happen," she mused, her eyes wandered towards the red gate. She could feel the boredom of waiting plaguing her mind; Hamuko was never comfortable being idle, after all. “I’m so _gonna_ prove it otherwise and feast on Minato’s disappointment.”

Naoya snorted, “Well, you might want to prepare quickly, then. A friend of yours has just arrived.”

Upon his words, her attention quickly turned towards the red gate. Her red eyes lightened up when he saw the silver top of Yu’s hair from beyond the stairs. She hastily stood up and glanced at her immaterial friend.

“I really don’t know how you do it,” she commented, “Do you have some sort of magical internal alarm that sets off whenever anyone enters the shrine?”

Naoya blinked once and laughed.

* * *

They were probably the most reckless group of children in the neighborhood.  After all, no compliant children would be out in the evening together without their parents' supervision. But they were all children of no one, except for Yu, who seemed to be as parentless as the others given how his maids spent more time with him than his own family did.

Despite how his family treated himself, Yu could still smile and be happy with them. It was one of the reasons why she still hung out with him—and the friends of hers were friends of her brother by association, so she never minded him in their little entourage of parentless children.

Makoto was another different case that she could tolerate (to some degree). Apparently, the young boy had no recollection of his mother and father (and they knew this after several heartwarming talks over gingerbreads and tea, sandwiched with Hamuko-style _interrogations_ ), which made him pretty much as orphaned as the rest of them. Despite being so close with her brother, however, she always felt so unsettled by his presence, like how his silent gaze would settle on her and set the music inside her off, or how the voice inside her would whisper of _Death and warnings_. In the end, Hamuko avoided the boy altogether just to minimize the hounding disconcertment that always attacked her mind.

Regardless of their various situations and backgrounds, they were finally together… and ready to do something _fairly_ stupid.

“Well, my dear brother,” she started with her teasing tone lining every word. Her face was already covered with her own mask, which was as red as her eyes. “Since you were so spirited with this whole idea, maybe you’d be interested to take the lead and show us how this game works.”

Minato, who was standing ten feet away from where she stood, gave her one of his blank look; their little get-together did make him lose a whole series of comic book. If anything, Hamuko assumed that he was formulating something to get her back. She silently shuddered when that mouth of his turned downwards, forming that dastardly cocky smirk. “You could have said to me that you’d very much like to know.”

Hamuko was silenced at the spot; she really wanted to fume, really, but eventually settled with more intense glares. She did not care if Makoto quickly hid behind Minato’s back, nor if he seemed so scared with her treatment.

Yu seemed to notice the amount of glares that the young girl had thrown—probably enough to kill a person if her stares are really thrown daggers—and quickly intervened. His own mask was yellow, which Hamuko felt so off-placed because she was sure that his favorite color is gray. But when she saw him smile with that mask on, it was the most sincere smile that he had displayed to her since forever.

It was like… he was confident enough to be honest when he wore a mask.

“Let me start the ceremony, before you two decide to cancel the game,” he grinned. Were it not for his delight, she would have glared at him until he cowered. But Hamuko could only sigh and grumble, whispering silent curses at her brother who liked to push every wrong button of hers.

To be fair, she had been on edge since Makoto’s arrival. _Hamuko had no idea why._

_(She only knew that the voice loathed him, but never understood the underlying reason.)_

So she followed Yu’s instruction, just like how the rest of them did. As expected, her brother was the most thrilled with the activity, with Yu’s being second most eager out of the four. The latter boy proceeded to start the ceremony by chanting the summoning words: _Master Persona, Master Persona, please come to us!_

Personally, she thought the spell was lame.

Her attention was quickly brought back to blue glints of Minato's mask. As he walked over, chanted the spell, and tapped her shoulder, Minato gave her a deadpanned look, "come on, Hamuko. At least act the game like you mean it."

The young girl rolled her eyes over and walked forward in quartile circle, right to Makoto. She eyed the boy as the pitch of the melody inside herself screeched and hummed in discord. She could feel the dread as she chanted those words, and the serenity that followed when he saw the boy in gray mask smiled, as if he wanted to tell something secret but still refused to.

He walked away without words and completed the ritual.

Nothing happened.

Hamuko huffed, "See! I told you nothing would happen—"

Perhaps she spoke too soon, because not long afterwards, the air around her chilled. Not only that, she could feel how the smell of ozone quickly permeated her lungs, and see the form of her guardian angel standing at the center of the circle wearing a full white mask with butterfly design on the upper right side.

He nodded at her, and everything went to chaos.

She did not know how golden butterflies could rise from the ground, nor did she realize how they brought darkness to leech on each and every one of them. They engulfed them in wisps of black and yellow, making her faltered, scattered, scared—and before she knew it, her ears were already ringing with Minato's, Yu's, and her own screams. She never really knew the exact time when everything went black, but Hamuko was sure of one thing:

She never remembered of Makoto screaming alongside them.

* * *

She woke up with pain and agony.

Every bone in her body hurt; she would have screamed some more if her throat was not so sore, so she settled with curling her body and stopping the scream which already reached her throat. She wouldn't even try and open her eyes; clearly she was too overwhelmed with the pain that racked around her body like a wildfire. So she laid on god-knows-what, seeing blurs of yellow and black condensed together beyond her weary eyelids. But unexpectedly, she could feel a gentle pat on her head, and then a wave of serenity and refreshment that quickly chased away her pain. Her head no longer pounded; every bone in her body stopped aching. But above all, she slowly could hear and feel the humming melody inside of herself that was thrown in discord when her body screamed of pain and agony.

The voice—the same one she had heard since forever—whispered to her to open her eyes, so she braced herself to do it—to see where they were. She found herself sprawled on checkered floor, inside of a dimly-lit empty space. The white light above could only light room so softly that she could only make of her greenish silhouette in the darkness.

The room reminded her of a time between today and tomorrow; a time when the moon gleams with pale yellow light, the roads are drenched with red water, everywhere is littered with red coffins, and no one seemed to neither believe nor understand her story. Just like how she told them the tale of a man with butterfly mask.

Only Minato knew about this (because they were with each other when they realized that they are alone in that gap of time).

Hamuko groaned; even after brushing her eyes, she still felt an imaginary draping that hung over her eyes to blur her vision. The dull ache in her bones still reminded her of what had happened, and how the rest of her unconscious friends were around her. But most importantly, she noticed the man who had been standing next to her—the same man who had been visiting, _guarding_ her insomeone else’s stead.

He might have worn a different mask—a plain, white mask with half of purple butterfly wings motif—but she was very sure that it was Naoya.

“Ungh… where…”

Hamuko quickly turned at the source, her red eyes lightened when Yu rose up. She quickly helped him stand, knowing he was, perhaps, in the same situation as her. The young silver-haired boy rubbed his temple as he struggled to recognize his surroundings.

“I don’t know, for sure, but I think Naoya knows,” she quickly turned at where he stood, but there was no one there. Her brows furrowed; _why do these kinds of people tend to disappear when she needed them the most?_

Hamuko noticed another groan, this time coming from both the youngest of them and her own brother. Both of them were still dazed, but seeing how they could stand on their own, Hamuko did not quickly approach them. Personally, she’d rather have her tune in-sync for a while… rather than risking another bout of headache because of Makoto.

Not that she loathed him or anything.

Suddenly, the room grew brighter; the dim light that shone softly before glowed even brighter. At least it was enough for her to differentiate colors. The young silver-haired boy on her side flinched due to sudden brightness, but it was enough for him to try jerking away (Hamuko’s grip kept him firmly in his place). Those silver orbs made a pleading look to release him, but Hamuko did not yield… or even noticed, because her attention was still focused on the spot where it was brightest.

Standing there was someone whom she recognized as _Philemon_ —and he was smiling, just like the first time they met. To see him like this made her refreshed and _liberated_ , as if his presence made the song inside her clearer… and stronger.

“Welcome, my favored ones.”

To hear his words resounding much like her inner voice brought a smile to her face.

"Phil-san!" She greeted, as her voice brought the others to turn at that man. But the man did not reply her words back; he only stood there pensively for a moment, as though he was pondering his next move. Eventually, he smiled and approached them; his eyes were cautiously scanning each and every one of them, but it seemed no one was aware.

Philemon knelt, his attention was still locked at the group. "Would all of you tell me your names?" He asked, the words felt like lead inside their gut. All of them seemed to struggle with their words—except for Hamuko, who simply looked straight at that man as if he had grown a second head.

"Well, I'm Hamuko, duh. Hamuko Arisato. I thought you’ve known it after our second meeting.” she briskly replied and waved her hand at her friends, “And these are my friends, the ones I used to tell you.”

But then she noticed how every one of them turned sickly pale.

“...eh? Are you guys feeling alright?” Hamuko asked worriedly, thinking perhaps that whatever happened broke some parts of their bones, but when she looked at the Yu’s confused look, Minato’s fearful countenance, and Makoto’s glazed glance, she knew instinctively that something was wrong—and it’s not flesh wound.

“I… I can’t remember who I am,” Minato muttered, desperation slipped between each syllable. Those words sent dread to her guts, so she looked away. The littlest of them stole her full attention, and Hamuko almost  choke at his near-panic expression.

“My name,” little Yu whispered as he combed through his hair, trying to rack that information from his brain and seemed failing at it, “wh-what is my name? I feel it’s like at the tip of my tongue—”

The dread inside her intensified, so she looked away again, to see Makoto staring back at her with that empty blue eyes. Questioning. Asking. _Afraid_.

“...who am I? What was I… Why am I…” Makoto still looked at her, the blue hue faintly flickered in sadness.

Her gut clenched; the dread inside her finally destabilized the melody which was singing in-tune inside her. Every pitch built up, wanting to be heard, because her thoughts were scrambled with confusion and anger.

She really wanted to hit all of them for forgetting, but slapped all of them instead.

“Idiots!” she cried and pointed her to her brother, first and foremost, “you are Minato Arisato from Sumaru City! Your favorite color is blue, you like to sing when you’re bathing, and you’re the most incorrigible brother I could ever have!”

“You!” her finger pointed at Yu, which made the young boy backed away several steps, “You’re Yu Narukami! You’re the shiest boy I have ever met, you like silver, and you’re the best friend I could have.”

“And you,” she halted for a moment, the twisted irritation and dread on her face slowly melted into sadness, “you are… you are Makoto Yuki. Minato always speaks well of you, and you always follow him everywhere.”

She could feel the built-up dread inside her slowly ebbed away and how it was slowly replaced by sadness. Her red eyes shift its attention the rest of them, now looking more or less dumbfounded, but at least she could see recognition in their eyes.

She felt the tears forming on the edge of her eyes, but Hamuko never shied her gaze away. “You cannot forget… not about us…” her breath hitched, and she eventually lowered her gaze, “You’re all I have left…”

They were all just kids, but Hamuko was once loved by her parents until the night took them away. She knew she was not the only one broken; sometimes she could see the pieces of Minato’s brokenness slipping through his poker face. Sometimes, she could even feel his screeching melody of ‘ _don’t cry don’t be sad don’t crack’,_ mingling with her own silent scream of _‘don’t ever leave me’._

She could not stand being left alone _again_. Not after losing her father and mother.

“I’m so sorry, sister.”

The hug came first before the words, Minato’s solemn tone was the proof of his guilt. She stayed still in his embrace, trying to control her breathing but failing. Minato only patted her head comfortingly. Later, she could feel warmth on both of her hands as the other boys grasped them as well. Hamuko stole a glance at the both of them, with Yu’s gray so clear and grateful, while Makoto’s blue so filled and relieved.

“Y-You’re all forgiven,” she sniffed and rubbed her eyes, “j-just don’t do that again, please…”

Minato nodded, while Yu and Makoto grasped onto her hand tighter. They stood there in silence, not noticing that the man dubbed as Philemon had risen back to his feet and observed the four of them quietly. When Hamuko managed to regain her composure and was able to look at him back with another smile (along with her friends), he let out a smile. “You never cease to amaze me, young girl.”

Hamuko slowly cocked her hand at the man there and pushed away from Minato’s embrace. For a moment, she rubbed her eyes and face, before letting a small smile, “and you guys are still jerks.”

Philemon chuckled and waved his hand, “I shall ignore that unladylike comment and proceed to grant you your rightful gifts, my favored ones,” his eyes glinted with pride, “for accepting my invitation.”

At his cue, the air surrounding all of them shimmered. Instinctively, each of them scattered away as gigantic figures rose up from their conscience. Hamuko could feel the beat of that melody brought to life in this towering figure of golden-armored young woman with heart-shaped harp of her back, and the voice that had been with her for the rest of her life resounding deep in her mind”

_I am thou, thou art I. From the sea of thy soul I cometh. I am—_

“Orpheus,” she whispered, only to find that it was not only her word, but also her brother’s. She looked at him, and he looked back, so surprised. Only then Hamuko knew why; the towering form that rose above him was silver in general—a color that was normal in Yu’s palette, but weird in her brother’s—and had a harp on his back. Instead of gold, his armor was silver. As much as she could tell, what really differentiated the design of hers and his were color palette and _gender_.

“Izanagi…”

Yu’s awed mutter snapped her back from her own reverie. The figure that rose above him stood strikingly with silver-white coat and imposing broad sword. His yellow eyes seemed to refer them coldly, but seeing how relaxed his posture was and how Yu smiled back at her, Hamuko knew that there was nothing wrong.

Hamuko smiled back, before turning her attention to the blue-eyed boy. Even then, she could not help but taste the fear in the air as she gazed at the dark looming _monster_ above him. The white-jawed mask only intensified her fear towards that being, moreover the series of floating coffins rotating around him. Makoto’s stony gaze at it remained, and she could hear him whispering the name of _that thing_.

“Thanatos.”

She noticed how Philemon’s gazed narrowed at him—and how he held himself back from commenting altogether. Maybe he noticed that unnatural vibe that she sensed when she looked at him… or maybe he saw something else.

Nevertheless, his gaze never stayed long on that boy. Philemon eventually focused his attention to all of them.

“To all of you, I grant you the power of Persona. They shall be the guardians that will look over you in your journey. They are parts of you—your other selves.”

He pointed his finger at them again, his eyes still shone with that pride, “now, go forward. Seek out your path, children… your journey begins now.”

The light above him shone even brighter, enveloping all of them. Even as that light blinded her, she could feel how refreshing it was—like a part of truth was revealed to her.

Orpheus hummed approvingly inside her, and she let herself be washed away with that light.

* * *

Later, her vision was met with hundreds little lights hanging on the sky.

It took a while for her to recognize them as _stars_ or the fact that they were still outdoors. They referred to the boys, who were standing around and staring her as if she was an alien from another planet. At least one of them—Yu—cracked a relieved smile when she came to. Minato soon followed, flashing a small smirk.

Makoto looked somewhat different; he smiled, yes, but that blue eyes looked livelier. Happier.

Hamuko eventually sat up on the ground and brushed out some dirt on her clothes, her red eyes twinkled with vigor. “Still thinking Philemon isn’t real?”

Minato chuckled and helped her stand, “well, to be fair, you’re the only one who could see him,” his smile faltered, “but I don’t understand… what _is_ a Persona? What is it for.”

She blinked and folded her hands. Her mind raced, “you know, I never know. Truth is, this is the first time I’ve known about Persona from him…” she eyed all of them, “but you could feel them, right? It… it hums, I think, in the back of my mind.”

Yu, who had been watching them silently, slowly commented, “...Izanagi feels like a storm in my head.”

That earned him a confused and worried glance, so Yu quickly cleared it up, “I mean, he is… just there. Calmly. Like before the storm. But I know for one thing that he _is_ a storm. I can’t really say…”

The blue-haired young boy nodded in confirmation, “perhaps it feels different from one person to another… what about you, Makoto?”

For some reasons, Orpheus did not throw any off-pitch notes—and it actually scared her, because she had grown used to her behavior whenever her attention focused on the boy. Maybe it was how his blue eyes twinkled with life, or maybe because she understood a bit of him after all that had happened. Or perhaps because his smile seemed less threatening.

“It feels peaceful,” he smiled, “like lying on a huge pillow…" Hamuko almost fell comically, and she was glad to refrain her thought when she saw his smile turned into a frown of sadness, “...but cold. And sad. It sleeps... but it sleeps because it will not rise again.”

The words did not make sense to her mind, nor to Minato's or Yu's (judging from their puzzled looks), but when he looked at her again, something inside her clicked into revelation. Or at least something made sense to her heart but not to her mind. She could hear Orpheus’ screech of rage, even if just for a moment, as she glanced back at him. 

He mouthed words at her, and she could feel it again, that sinking feeling of dread in her guts:

“ _Thank you for acknowledging my name_.”

She felt like she had made the biggest mistake in their lives.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is inspired by these pieces:
> 
>   * [Izanagi's Color Palette in P4A](http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130713193906/megamitensei/images/6/68/Izanagi_Palette.png). The one used in this fic is actually on the lower left corner.
>   * [Shoji Meguro - School Days](http://fyeahpersonamusic.tumblr.com/post/29973582805/school-days-persona-psp-original-soundtrack)
>   * [Shoji Meguro - Mass Destruction -Lotus Juice Remix-](http://fyeahpersonamusic.tumblr.com/post/82739818039/mass-destruction-lotus-juice-remix-fate-is-in)
> 

> 
> * * *
> 
> This one is personally my note in general.
> 
> See, the reason why I write these series stems from my desire to tie all Persona series together. Today, I have (finally) finished Persona Trinity Soul with bittersweet note and feels... to the point maybe, at some point, these series will include cast from that particular series.
> 
> But well, I should finish the other pieces in my mind first, I guess. Hahaha.
> 
> It's amusing to note that I pick Izanagi with Orpheus' color palette. In one way or another, I really feel that this choice will relate to the future of this particular story. About what? That's... let's just wait for it in the next chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I swear, I'm going to try and make shorter stories later...~~


	3. Presto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one ever told her that having a Persona meant real-life horror story whenever the clock stroke twelve in the dead of the night.

Whenever she looked up at the moon, any phase of moon, Hamuko would remember the night when they first understood the meaning of the greenish night between today and tomorrow.

Apparently, that greenish moment meant real-life horror story.

It was already past evening when they returned back to their respective places. After sneaking Yu back to his home unnoticed to his parents, Hamuko managed to sneak the rest of the team back to the orphanage without any complications—partly thanks to Minato. Her brother, after all, had gone to the shrine prepared; she was not really surprised when Minato produced spare keys from his pocket and quickly unlocked the doors with ease.

It was also a good change of pace to not have him grinning like a Cheshire cat. Perhaps by having Orpheus around, he would be less a menace to her sanity.

They bid each other a quick ‘good night’ before going back to their respective rooms. She did not fail to notice Makoto tailing behind her brother as they disappeared behind the door of their room. Hamuko, knowing full well that both of them shared the same room, and sighed quietly; sometimes she was a little jealous with how he could spend more time together with Minato than she did. She was supposed to be the sister!

Hamuko sighed and moved in to her room quietly, being very careful not to wake her friend, who was already a sleeping pile of blankets and bed covers on the upper tier of their beds. Without further thinking, she quickly threw herself onto the bed. The soft pillow that met her face was a welcoming relief to her sense.

Even as she closed her eyes, she could feel the pulling sensation of Orpheus in the back of her mind, tugging the edge of her unconsciousness.

The voice—Orpheus—inside her mind never acted this way.

The pull turned stronger with every beat of the music inside her, to the point that she groaned, clearly annoyed. She wondered of the things that she could do to silence her mind, from thinking of delectable drinks to crashing her head to the wall until she falls unconscious. The latter option might wake someone up, so she lazily crossed it out from her list. In the end, she only settled with a sigh and muffled her face with a pillow.

The tugging sensation finally snapped inside her, immersing her whole senses in stale air.

Hamuko threw away her pillow and snapped her eyes open; she was quickly met with greenish hue that had been familiar to her since two years ago. However, this time it was different, because now Orpheus' plucks of harp blared inside her like a supercharged music. Everything screamed ‘dangerous’, and everywhere she looked, she saw red pools and cracked walls. She quickly stood up and ran out of her bed, ignoring everything else that was out of place (coffins on the second tier of her bed? She had learnt well to let them be). Her instinct urged her to check on her brother, so she did so.

She did not even bother to knock on the door; Hamuko simply banged it hard once. The poor door opened slowly, revealing her the sight of her brother who was sitting on the bed previously before quickly jumping out of his bed. She also noted Makoto’s black mop of hair as he tucked out under the bed cover. They could feel their relieved gaze and quickly came to conlusion that both of them were expecting someone else.

Her senses told her so, after all.

When Minato's eyes seemed to register her presence, his tensed shoulder seemed to relax, "don't scare us like that," he sighed, "I have enough of surprises today..."

Now she felt bad for banging the door. "Sorry, but... I suddenly have a bad feeling."

"Do you mean now?"

It was rare for Makoto to speak to her, maybe because her own attitude in general was unapproachable by timid boys such as him. But his blue eyes locked with her red ones curiously still, and it made her wondered of what this boy was trying to say.

"Yeah," a pause, "I know we've experienced the same greenish night like this once in a while, but this one... I don't know, I think something dangerous is going to happen." Hamuko uttered. Her hand unknowingly went to rub her right temple, a quiet sign of hesitance. Her gaze broke away from the littlest of them and finally drifted to her brother's once again, imploring inputs.

"You're not the only one then," Minato quickly supplied as anxiety slowly crept out of his mask of calmness. "He and I," he gestured at Makoto, "feels the same. Like something will go wrong—”

There was a loud bang outside of his room—outside of the house—as though a person had thrown something big to hit another. Minato abruptly stopped, his face paling as the loud noise grew louder… and closer; whoever (or _whatever_ ) it was, it was moving quickly towards their new home. When another bang was heard, Makoto quickly climbed down from his bed and shuffled closer with the rest of them. His blue eyes hinted some fear, and Hamuko could not really blame him; she could feel her feet shook in panic.

“We should see what’s going on,” Minato eventually said as he tried to keep his fear under control (and Hamuko knew it was an unbelievable feat), “...we know there is no one to ask for help if we get into trouble."

Hamuko knew his concern. She remembered the one time they tried to open the casket where one of the kids were lying before. It did not budge (maybe because they were not strong enough)—but at the end of the hour, the peopled would return back to normal, with no recollection of what had happened.

Her red eyes travelled back to Makoto, and she found his blue eyes gazed back at her. At that moment, she knew that they were waiting for directions. Unknowingly, they had chosen her to decide, maybe because she had become their glue... or maybe because she was the one who guided them to meet Philemon.

Hamuko took a deep breath and pushed away the built-up dread inside her. The supercharged music that blared inside her mind was enough to pull some semblance of courage left inside her messed up feelings.

"Let's go."

* * *

The waxing crescent moon reminded her of Yu—and Izanagi—entering the battle like a knight in shining armor; it was the one time she realized that despite his timid demeanor, Yu Narukami was very protective.

Despite how fashionably late he was.

The first thing they saw when they stepped out from the orphanage building was red liquid staining every road, to the littlest nooks and crannies. Hamuko almost toppled over, if not for Minato's weak grip on her shoulder. She could feel how his hand trembled like shaking leafs, or how he took a step back just because of the sheer weirdness of those reds.

After all, they reminded her too much of blood. She could not even begin to imagine for him to see these blood-like stains, not when he witnessed first-hand the death of their family.

Her stomach churned; Orpheus plucked her harp harshly—chastising—which quickly snapped her back from her reverie.

They needed to get away.

"Alright," Another crash, like a sound of car colliding with steel and concrete, was heard and she could only gulp, "Let's move."

"Wait," Minato grab her hand before she could even proceed, "we should hold hands. If any of us sees anything scary or dangerous, we run. Those who are pulled must follow through. That way, we don't get separated."

Minato's reasoning made sense to her. She also noticed how Makoto seemed to relax a bit when he held Minato's hand; any measure of comfort was certainly welcomed. So Hamuko nodded in approval and started walking and gestured them to move along.

The entourage made their journey quietly towards the source of the noise. Sometimes, Hamuko would walk quicker, which made her brother scurry over quickly in several instances. Other times, she would quietly slow down whenever another loud bang was heard. In the end, she finally stopped altogether in an intersection of the road when she heard quiet steps on the other side.

She looked back for a moment to assure them all that they are ready with whatever they would do next. Minato nodded, and it was the only confirmation that she needed.

Hamuko peeked out from the edge of the bordering wall and see a pair of black globs, staring right on her face.

She shrieked.

Before she knew what was happening, Hamuko felt herself being pulled harshly away by her brother. Falling to his pace, she quickly adjusted her steps and started running. She did not dare to look back, because Minato's fearful expression when he did was enough as a warning.

Another loud bang, this time a little bit closer than she anticipated. Already driven by fear and adrenaline—catastrophic combination if she could say for herself—she eventually looked back and saw those black eyes again. What she missed, however, was the fact that she had looked upon the black eyes of a shadow-formed dog-like creature, resembling closely to an Akita-inu.  Despite its lithe and cuddly form, his impending aura of danger scared her the most and sent warning triggers throughout her senses.

She also missed the form standing behind it, another shadow form resembling a man with walking stick. There was a silver domino mask equipped to his face, but there were no eyes behind those sockets.

Both shadow figures gazed at them, but they showed no sign of closing in... not in the near minutes, she hoped.

She stopped wondering as the grip on her hand tightened and yanked her to turn left. They successfully outrun them, she thought, because there were no more noises—

But then Minato stopped abruptly, and she yelped because Hamuko could not halt her advance properly and end up crashing on him. At least Minato was strong enough to stop her altogether. She fumed, "what are you stopping for?!"

But she regretted her outburst and wished that she noticed what's unraveling before her earlier, because she failed to understand how in the world that shadow forms, both canine and man, _stood before them now when they were chasing them not long before._

Her stomach churned. It did not matter whether Minato quickly stepped forward and protectively shielded both herself and Makoto; they were already in deeper trouble when the dog's mouth glowed reddish-orange. She could feel how the heat was slowly forming around that dog, and it was aiming at them.

They were doomed and still too stunned even to scream for help.

_Call my name, my other self._

But the words, soft like feathers and unlike the usual tone of her Orpheus, came a little bit too late. She had already closed her eyes, clearly given up on any resistance. There was nowhere to go and no one to ask for help; Makoto’s frightened grip on her wrist was a wry confirmation.

They were waiting for the worst to come when she heard a loud snap. She could feel how the air surrounding them crackled and combusted. The dog's howl of pain followed after, and Hamuko learned quickly that situation had changed. So she opened her eyes, and saw—

"What the..."

She saw Yu's back, the form of his silver Persona hanging lightly above him like a cordless marionette. Those little shoulders seemed so frail and endearing, because a boy younger than herself shouldn’t have put himself in front of his senior to stave away the danger. That should be the role of the older siblings… like her.

Her mind halted as he shouted, "Go, Izanagi!"

It was beyond her belief, really, because then the silvery form behind him quickly launched at the shadowy form, trying to slash his sword at the shadow man. But said shadow simply blocked it with his walking stick (but that's impossible, she mentally screeched, because Izanagi's enormous sword should have cut it in half, and then proceeded to decimate the shadow as well). The Shadow seemed to regard him, before raising his hand and called a massive gust of wind that easily threw the persona back. Yu yelped as his own self was thrown back as well, following Izanagi's fate. He was really fortunate that Minato was already in position to hold him back, before he could crash to the nearest wall.

The dog was already charging its next attack, and there was no Izanagi to defend them.

That was when the music inside her blared again, the rustling voice that had spoken previously suddenly screamed like a child.

_Call my name, my other self. Or have you forgotten my name?_

The music inside her kept on building tempo, with the power flowing and mingling tightly in her mind like spider webbing.  It convulsed, it strained, and it is hurting as well as liberating. When she felt how it struck something in her, she looked at the shadows again, only to see a glowing blue card hovering in front of her.

It felt natural for her to just reach out and touch it, before crushing it completely in her grasp. Her red eyes glowed with power as she exclaimed the name of that voice.

"Orpheus!"

The feeling drained out of her. For a moment, she screamed, but the burst of power deafened her ears (or did it silence her screams?), and when she came to realize, the same reappeared before her with cold gleam. It was as if her Persona shunned her for not calling to it any sooner.

Despite all of that, she felt _powerful._

Hamuko thought of it launching forward, and Orpheus responded to her wish with a beat down. The dog was met with a hit from her love-shaped harp and yelped in agony. When her persona tried to hit the other shadow afterwards, it simply blocked the blow with its walking stick and proceeded to blow Orpheus away with another gust. It hit, and as Orpheus hit the ground with a loud thud, Hamuko's head rang so painfully that she screamed and fell to her knees.

She could feel Minato's arms reaching to her, trying to keep her steady. His panic words (‘come on Hamuko, don’t lose the fight now!’) were not helping at all. Her head hurt like hell and there was nothing he could do to remedy that.

She saw how the dog-like shadow growled at them; its snout glowed reddish-orange again. That was it—this was the end.

The dog howled and spit out a fireball big enough to burn all of them to crisp. She closed her eyes, feeling too swamped by the pounding headache in her head. But distantly, she could feel how the air surrounding her turned lighter... and most of all, how her senses slowly returned to normal, like a knot being unraveled.

When she opened her eyes again briefly, the greenish hue was gone. The air she breathed turned lighter, and more importantly, there were no shadows to be seen. She did not even see Orpheus’ form anywhere, and then understood that it was already in the empty slot of her mind; it had stopped wailing and chose to hum quietly. The melody somehow matched with Minato's frantic pleas and Makoto’s scared whimpers (ah, she never thought the kid could actually whimper), and she felt the combination was really comforting. ‘ _But where is Yu why can't I see him—’_

But she felt no more as the last that she remembered were streaks of silver and someone calling her _neesan_.

* * *

Hamuko blinked once and several times more. The room where she was did not seem to disappear, so she could at least establish that she was not in a dream. Everything she saw was blue, from the color of checkered floors, the satin velvet covering several what looks like… doors (‘wait how come there are  _doors?_ ) and even the seemingly-soft walls made of blue cushions.

She blinked again and rubbed her eyes, trying to ascertain the fact that it was not a dream (because there was no way those were doors. Again.). When she opened them again, the sight of Philemon, sitting unknowingly across the satin-covered table, made her jumped from her seat. However, the man seemed unfazed by her reaction; he kept his gaze level on her.

Come to think of it, she never recalled the fact that his eyes were red… at least as red as hers. It felt disturbing.

Hamuko let out a sigh, never knowing that she was tensed to begin with. The young girl slowly returned to her seat and threw him another stare, “you just enjoy surprising me, aren’t you?”

Philemon smirked, and it deeply unsettled her because the last time she did that… well, a gigantic marionette-woman with heart-shaped harp came out from her own consciousness. While she could not deny that it was cool (hey, at least she was not really going mad. There was really something inside her that could bash things, like the shadow previously), Hamuko could smell the amount of _bothers_ she would receive in the following days if the rest of her nights would revolve around a vengeful shadow man with his loyal dog.

Bottom line: smirking Philemon is definitely not a good thing.

“Come now,” he mused, his hand absentmindedly played with the cards on the table (when did the table even get _there_ ), “I have reappeared before you so many times this way. Who knows how many times did Naoya appear to you the way I did, but the point is,” he took one card from the blue stack and placed it right in front of her, “you should have gotten used to it by now.”

Hamuko snorted, “yea right, I wonder who’s used to your habit at all, given how few your friends are.”

Philemon managed to let out a chuckle and shook his head. His hand gently nudged the card that was still on the desk, waiting to be flipped. “Take a look, Hamuko.”

Hamuko looked back him, a little bit searching. There were times when Philemon would stay silent no matter how many times she asked him. There were also times when he simply said some jumbled words that did not make sense to her. But the one time he _did_ say something coherent, Hamuko ended up grateful for the day, in some ways. Like meeting Yu and becoming friends with him in a single day, for example.

Eventually, she reached for the card and flipped it open. The picture that was revealed made her stunned, because the shadow figures of a man and a dog in the picture resembled almost exactly as the one she and her friends had faced previously.

She wondered whether they belonged to Philemon’s world as well.

"That card, my dear, is The Fool," she turned back her attention to that man once again as Philemon started explaining, "it means adventure. Some says it's the beginning of a journey."

Hamuko rolled her eyes; when she thought Philemon could be normal for his one session, said man went banana again. "What, you mean it's me? Honestly, Philemon, I feel insulted."

He looked at her for a brief moment, trying as though trying to hope for less animosity but failing. Another sigh escaped his lips; perhaps he had forgotten the art of talking to 10-year-old girl, despite being able to appear anywhere he wanted, to whomever. "That card is not only about you, my dear."

Hamuko saw how the man picked two cards from the pile on his right and flipped it with a wave. She also remembered to close her jaw before Philemon took notice; the last thing she needed was another pestering session by Philemon the great.

Both cards had similar design to one another, with one resembling a man with a crown, while the other, a gray skull. Questions quickly resurfaced into her mind, but Philemon already raised his hand as a signal for her to be patient.

"They are the people that are close to you—the mask that represented their affection," Philemon paused for one moment, as though pondering the right words for her to understand. Instead of continuing his words, however, the masked man waved his hand again. The two cards quickly transformed into two figurines of Orpheus—his brother's—and Izanagi.

"Your friendships, or should I say your bonds, will help you in your oncoming journey," Philemon stated, his hands intertwined with one another as he tried to note each figurine. Her own card even slipped out of her grasp as it abode the wish of the room master and transformed into a figurine of her own persona. She saw how the three of them stood on the table, unmoving, before another card with black design, certainly different than the normal blue, appeared in the middle between the three, which then transformed into that shadow man.

She looked at that figurine owlishly, wondering why the card took such form. But before she could comment, the three figurines of her and her friends' persona suddenly came to life and attacked the black-themed one. Her and her brother's Personae strummed both of their harps, and Hamuko got to watch the shadow being engulfed with fire and ice... and later then, how Izanagi launched forward, finishing he attacks with a flash of thunder.

She winced as the black figurine shattered in wisps of blackish smoke with an unnerving wail, and how the other Personae suddenly disintegrated into silvery blue grains and mingled with black. She could see how those bits reformed back into what appeared to be a card—the same card with mask picture on the back and bluish edge—and revealed... The Tower.

"I have to admit, this is the first time that such thing happens," he opened his hand, and the black card quickly floated away, answering his call. At least now Philemon had then time to observe and examine the young girl thoroughly. "The Tower in reverse. Beware of lies, my dear, especially the lies of another."

Honestly, if she could, she would have duck-taped Philemon’s mouth for spewing nonsenses. Couldn't he talk in simpler ways than this? And why was he rushing his words when he knew that her mind was still processing as fast as it could?

"Whoa whoa, time out!" She threw her hands to the air, "journey? What journey? And what do you mean by lies? What do they have to do with it?" Hamuko pinched the bridge of her nose. "I swear everything you've said since the first time we met never made sense. At all."

She missed how his bland expression turned sour. When he crushed the card with his hand, however, Hamuko inadvertently returned her attention to him and noticed how tired his red eyes were.

"Then I shall further simplify my message to you. Beware of him, my favored one. Beware of his lies." he said and snapped his finger. For some reasons, she felt the reality around her shifted; she groaned as her vision turned foggy with Philemon’s words a soft murmur inside her mind.

"Until next time, my favored."

The room disappeared in white light.

* * *

The waxing half-moon reminded her much of hospital… and Yu.

(Sometimes she wondered why Yu always crossed her mind lately. He was a good friend, yes. A shy boy two year younger than her. A peculiar boy with thunderous Persona.

A protective friend.)

She distinctly remembered of trying to reach for the masked man as the room vanished, but her hand reached outwards only to grab air. It was then that Hamuko opened her eyes and saw the soft white plafond. The particular smell of antiseptic quickly attacked her sense; it did not take her more than seconds for her to understand that she was in hospital.

The image of her parents' caskets being whisked away from hospital made her lurched forward and sat. Hospitals would always be the most hated place on earth for her.

Orpheus hummed in her mind once, and it always helped her to snap out of her depressive reverie. Hamuko took a deep breath and heaved down a sigh. It took her another second to realize that she was not alone.

Yu's silver hair gleamed in the moonlight (it was still night, she noticed—a normal night without stale air and green light) as he slept on the chair with his head lolling on her bed. Judging by his white shirt that was similar to her own currently, he might be the patient who should be sleeping on the empty bed across her own.

The young boy shifted and opened his eyes. Those pair of eyes was still foggy, and she could hear his groans when he lifted his head up and shook away whatever soreness and distraction that remained. When he turned towards her, however, his sleepy eyes lit up with relief.

“You’re awake, _neesan_!” he beamed, the usual shy smile in on his face quickly transformed to a more confident with gratitude etching his expression. “I’m so glad. You’ve been sleeping for so long that I thought you…”

Yu’s eyes went downcast so quickly that she actually winced; did he really think that it was his fault that she’s admitted to the hospital, after all his effort to save them all? She quickly brushed that thought away as she noticed how Yu’s guilty face turned into worry.

“Are you hurt somewhere? Maybe I should call the doctor... or maybe the nurse—”

The last thing she needed was a frantic Yu, who was going to do something she did not need. So Hamuko reached out to his hand and held it (while trying to dispel any static shock that seemed to travel through her fingertips when her hands met his). She kept her red eyes on his grays, "no, no, Yu listen—I’m alright. Nothing hurts,” but her throat was raw, and even Yu noticed this little bits of fact. She kept pleading anyway. “Just don’t call the doctors and nurses for now… alright?”

Because she seriously needed to sort thing through and calm down, and more people would only mean more buzzing for her head to process. Hamuko needed no more things in her mind. For now.

Yu seemed set on disobeying her request, but she knew she got through when his shoulders sagged down a little, his head nodded weakly. Hamuko sighed in relief, feeling some of the tension on her shoulder left. Again, she took another deep breath just to calm herself, because she needed to know.

After all, it was still waxing crescent-moon when _they_ faced the shadowy man and his dog.

“How long was I out?” she inquired hoarsely. Yu did not answer promptly. Instead, he walked to the side of her bed and grabbed a glass of water before giving it to her. Hamuko accepted it and muttered a soft ‘thanks’, before drinking the whole content quickly.

“Three days… I heard. They said you're too tired to move and passed out," he replied and sighed, “it’s what they tell me. I woke up earlier than you, though, but they forbade me to go home.”

She did not miss the offhand tone that the boy used, especially on the word ‘home’. It always felt weird to hear Yu feeling relived with not going home.

“That’s…” she took another deep breath as the image of that shadowy man reappeared in her mind. Thinking of them here, inside of this building, sent shivers down her spine. “Did you… did you remember about that shadow man and his dog? What about him? Has he come here?”

Yu shifted for one moment, clearly not liking where this conversation was going. But he managed to shake his head in confirmation, and it was enough for Hamuko to sigh in relief.

"Good. That's... that's good," she whispered. At least now she could smile a little lightly, like how she did now, "and thank you for the save. Wouldn't have escaped unscathed without you, Yu."

It was probably a trick of light, but Hamuko noticed how his expression twisted from being worried to flustered. Not to mention those cheeks seemed to go pink... and she thought it was quite endearing.

Hamuko swore that Orpheus downright giggled in the back of her mind.

"Do you think he'll come back?" The young boy asked quietly. His grey eyes might have shown determination, but his wavering words also showed the fear that mimicked her own. "When he appeared..  It seemed as though he was looking for someone."

She knew what he meant (and fought the urge to hide her impressed expression, because this boy is good at figuring things); the unsaid word of 'us' seemed to hang in the air. To think that they were the targets of a pair of shadowy figures without being able to ask for help from the grownups.

But the image of her, Yu's, and Minato's Personae, working together to beat the shadow, planted a seed of confidence in her mind. She was convinced that they’d be victorious, because for all nonsense that Philemon had spilled until now, he never lied. All she needed to watch out now is the liar whom he warned her about.

She would deal with that when the time comes.

"Don't worry," she smiled at him with determination, "We'll be ready when he's back."

Maybe it was her words that made whatever fear in those grey eyes diminished, until there was none left. When he smiled back at her with such devotion and trust, she knew that she had convinced him that everything would be alright.

“...when he comes back, I’ll protect you…” his posture straightened up. His words were more robust and firm as he promised. “I’ll protect you like how you protect me years ago, _neesan_.”

For one moment when their hands met again (it was Yu who seeked comfort now), she could hear the breaking of a glass and a bell ringing inside her mind. There was a soft whisper of declaration and then a warm sensation that resembled Orpheus' presence in the back of her mind, like a thousand hits of thunder resounding in the background but still remained muted. She closed her eyes, slowly, as her mind, her mind trailed back to the night when Yu described his Persona as a storm in silence.

When all noises were drained away from her mind, she could feel the empty slot adjacent to Orpheus’ place surfaced. She could feel… the rumbles of lightning and the protectiveness of the one that heralded the power of lightning, summarized in a silent, pleading gaze of Yu Narukami.

So she smiled in response, her next words felt like a promise.

“Let’s protect each other.”

She never knew that her promise would even transcend death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that I didn't bore you much... with the amount of repetitive word in this battle-scene. Truthfully, writing battle scenes was never part of my good point ( _what is uppercut what is dropkick i don't have the vocabulary aaaa_ ).
> 
> On another note, though... I just made a possibly fluffy Yu/Hamuko plot! 
> 
> [ADDITIONAL] It's peculiar to note that the Arcana Shadow from Persona 3 starts with The Magician. Given that, I took the liberty to make a (somewhat?) AU story where The Fool Arcana Shadow actually exists. 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Someone shoot me please.~~


	4. Fortissimo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were no summaries simple enough to précis the complicated part of her short life. Not with thunder, ice, and fear that seem to get along with her fire just fine.
> 
> (Really, how had her childhood degraded to fighting one of their own entourage?)

 

Hamuko remembered what happened in the following days.

She remembered of waking up to see the nurse over her noting things on her writing pad. The nurse in question seemed to notice and greeted Hamuko with a plain nod before scuttled away to call for the doctor. Hamuko did not remember much, but she could recall the tiring process of checkups and validation that entailed. Everything seemed to go so slow... until the guardian of orphanage— _the caretaker_ —actually came to pick her up.

Hamuko remembered of being scolded off, an ultimatum to ground her for life hanging over her head. She even tried her best to not roll her eyes, because, of course the caretaker could not do that; one that, she and her brother would leave the place and be independent. Nevertheless, she managed to fake a cringe, because she never meant to make others worried over their little misadventure.

At least showing that she did feel bad about what they did felt enough.

For the rest of the day, she was not able to meet with Yu (because really, they were together then, surely the grownups would bring them to the same hospital). Her caretaker said that the Narukami family had already picked the boy up and went home. The sliver of thought made her flinched; as much as they care—his parents—about him, she knew full well that Yu preferred to be in her company rather than his family. It showed, even under his grudging obedience and fear (Yu feared his own parents, she thought sometimes).

She imagined him being dragged away, brooding in place. The image of a dejected Yu silently crept into her conscience and made her feel bad, because she knew all too well that no matter how warm they were in her presence, Yu needed more than just eager smiles and polite banter.

The rest of her journey was quick and particularly silent. Her caretaker talked and asked much, generally about how Hamuko and her friends could end up in the middle of the street during the night, and ended up going to the hospital. Hamuko could sense a little bit of contempt in her caretaker's words, particularly when she talked about hospitals—how they sold things so expensively and its relation to their stay. At least she did feel guilty for that one; Hamuko might be a child, but she knew enough that they did not have enough funds to cover unforeseen costs like this.

In her defense, there weren't anything any grownups could do in such power. That night, at least she knew much that only children who could summon persona—like themselves—can defend against the monster of the night.

She wondered if the caretaker would believe her if she ever told her that. Hamuko simply crushed that thought to the ground with a sigh—another one in their silent walk that quickly earned her questioning glances.

The young girl only smiled in reply and continued walking. With much time and useless meeting, Hamuko really felt that she should meet with her entourage… and her brother.

Especially her brother.

* * *

Whenever she gazed at the half waxing moon, she would recall her brother.

(Yes, she would also remember Yu as well, but recalling one without thinking of the other was impossible, especially when Philemon’s warning kept on echoing in her mind.)

It felt _really_ peculiar to think about life without his brother. Being shuffled into a life with nightmarish night together and seeming as the only people who understood the whispers of one's other self inside, Hamuko always thought that only he could understand the weight.

But when she saw the faces of man and woman who claimed to be relatives of Yuki family as they tried convincing the caretaker to handover her brother, Hamuko felt the peculiar feeling turned into something akin to fear and _hatred_. Part of her secretly feared that those grey eyes—her brother’s eyes—would glint forlornly when he would say, ‘ _yes, I agree’._

But Minato did not nod or shake head when he whispered his rejection towards the offer. His grey eyes were steely—so much different what she had imagined.

(Because they had not been together for a long time. Minato could have joined the new family, could have had the loving embrace of a woman whom he could call mother—so much ‘ _could have_ ’—yet her brother chose _her._ )

In the end, she felt stupid for even fearing. Her brother turned down the offer in front of their faces, saying that if they could not adopt her, he might as well stay with her in the orphanage. The young pair did not seem thrilled with his answer and almost made a scene, much to their caretaker’s displeasure.

 _The caretaker_ (did she mention that their caretaker is actually a kind middle-aged woman with lush brown hair and lovely brown eyes, complete with sharp tongue and an even sharper wit?) quickly led them to the front exit and bade them goodbye. When she came back, the caretaker smiled as she whispered him things that couldn’t be overheard, before trotting back to her room and biding both of them goodbye.

(Sometimes she wondered if they were never kids before the caretaker. Sometimes. Grownups should have tucked them in their beds, shouldn’t they?)

Minato’s grey eyes gazed at her tiredly, dampening his soft smile with weariness. She felt it in her heart how hard to reply that smile, so she remained silent and, instead, chose to quickly close the distance between them and gave him a hug.

Her brother tensed for one moment, before finally relaxing and hugged back.

They did not exchange words, being comfortable by the silence after. But the image of Minato, gazing at her tiredly as if there was no life left of him, kept haunting her surface thoughts—and no amount of Orpheus’ relaxing music would ease her own thoughts.

There was a time when Hamuko really hoped his mischievousness glint would somewhat dim out of her brother’s eyes, but if it left such weariness and tiredness like this moment, Hamuko would do anything to return that mischievous smirk, that playful glance, that deadpanned expression—

“I never thought you think about _me_ this much...”

Minato’s quiet words snapped her back to reality. Hamuko did not exactly know when she had really closed her eye or when her role changed, from being the hugger to the hugged one. She could feel Minato’s hand stroking her head soothingly, before pulling away. The same tiredness still haunted his eyes, but his soft smile remained. It might not completely eradicate her own weariness, but the gesture still left her a cool impression.

Her lips moved to respond, but Minato shook his head and put a finger on his lips—a sign to stay silent, because it was not her place to speak. Not now. Not when the sound of strings resounded in her heart, in his, and in anything that screamed resolution and loyalty.

"You had that look, like I'm going to leave you anytime soon,” he sighed as he gripped her shoulders firmly, and Hamuko could listen to whispering tones of blues that seeped into her mind, quietly settling in the slot next to her Orpheus, " But sister, I could never. Not when we're stuck together like this, witnessing the same nightmare over and over again. Not when you've accepted me as your brother."

His grey eyes—so similar to Yu's shade—glinting in the half shown moonlight offered assurance. A promise.

"Because you're my only family there is now. I can never leave you. ...I will never leave you."

Hamuko certainly did not know when her chest constricted, but eventually the young girl let out a soft whimper. She let the tears fell down (when had it even started pooling?), let the brother who stayed with her until now comforted her again in their resumed hug.

She quietly let the swirling winter tune settled carefully next to the fiery melody that is her Orpheus and felt the world around her a hundred times clearer.

* * *

"Why do you not like me?"

It was not the first time they spoke with each other, but every time she and Makoto did, Orpheus would play the same fiery, _unbearable_ , melody of fear and discord that eventually drove to the _edge_. It did not make sense how her other self smelled danger in this seemingly harmless boy, and the more night passed—the more conversation they had—the warnings became more frantic. Her Orpheus was more chaotic, even though tonight was like any other night, when they managed to sneak out to the nearest playground (which was conveniently located right next to their orphanage) and tested their gifts that so they are prepared to face the shadow man again.

But now the teal-haired boy started their conversation with such curious eyes and honest expression that it was almost endearing. Too bad such face could not make her persona shut down for one whole moment.

"It's not that I don't like you, Makoto," she sighed and turned her attention away from him for a moment towards Yu and Minato at the center of the playground. Both had their Personae summoned, their armors glinted sickly green under the looming, almost full, yellow moon. Sometimes she could see them exchanging hit with little spells of lightning and ice.

"You sure say that, yet you and Narukami-kun seemed to act so," he pouted, and Hamuko quickly looked back at the young boy, because Makoto _never_ pouted. When she noticed the tight smirk that he showed, however, Hamuko wondered whether he had done it to gain her attention.

Hamuko hardened her gaze at the young boy for a moment and crossed her hand, pondering whether she had to tell the truth at all. She eventually sighed, just as a yellow streak danced around the corner of her eyes as Yu went on the offensive against her brother.

"I will be honest with you," she started, her red eyes met with his, "whenever you are around, I get this pounding headache in my head. And no, it's not medical or anything. More like..." she paused for a moment, but it only compounded his curiosity and made her nervously sighed.

"More like Orpheus bashing around inside my head," she finally said.

He looked at her oddly, and Hamuko only replied with a raised eyebrow.

"What, I'm serious," she insisted. Sometime along, she noticed the blue wisps and ice-cold wind from the center of the playground, courtesy to her brother's Orpheus. It did not deter her attention towards the boy, though.

Besides, who could avert one’s attention away from that sorry boy?

"I don't mean to make fun of you, truly," Makoto replied with a face so innocently regretful that Hamuko had to hold herself back from snorting. "It's... well, it's saddening if your persona does not like me well.”

That made her stared at him incredulously, and it seemed to unsettle the boy the longer she did less to her liking.

“I mean, I suppose there's nothing I could do to fix it, then..."

She let out a groan of exasperation, rather than annoyance, when she saw how dejected he felt about it. Now she felt guiltier about the whole thing. "Now you're making me feel bad. It's not your fault, and I strongly believe that you're a good kid. You must be, if my brother kept on tagging along with you," she finally replied.

Finally, because even after staring at him for a while and knew that she should not be doing so for longer, Hamuko could not keep her eyes away from that pair of blue eyes. It was as though they were holding her thoughts captive. In a way, that might be true, because she saw the same shades in her brother’s own during one of the green nights that they have witnessed together.

That time, they were coping—no, _trying_ to understand and accept that the Arisato is almost no more. Almost.

(Because even now, they were still coping, still trying to accept, still _disbelieving_.)

There was a howl of agony that made her inside froze. It did not even take more than seconds for her to turn. When she looked back at the sparring boys on the field, the familiar dread that had appeared when they faced their enemy resurfaced with waves of nausea. She did not waste another breath to run over; a limping, dumb-stricken Yu and a writhing Minato on the ground with unfamiliar stink of burnt flesh (she was sure it was something burnt, and it made her churned to think that any of them might have suffered some damages), and two flickering Personae hanging above them, were enough to make her choked.

Makoto was running behind her not too far from her. She did not give a damn about it and proceeded to examine Minato's writhing figure, winching as she pulled him gently into her soft cradle.

(And she ignored Yu, mostly because he did not obtain much damage, partly because he was the one who caused this accident. That part was steadily breeding more anger that she could not tolerate.).

The apparent burnt on his shoulder was enough for her to wince. She had no idea _how to treat them. They're not doctors; they're just boys and girls trying to beat down some evil shadow—_

Orpheus' melody blared inside her skull even louder _again_ , almost driving her to scream. For the first time since forever, she really wished she never had it in the first place because she was about to cry while there were no grownups to ask for help during this blasphemous green night.

Minato was shaking in her arms and trying to focus but failing (she could see how those eyelids were sealed shut due to overbearing pain) as he thrashed weakly even in her cradle. He even bit his lips, but the pained groans kept exiting, and it sent her mind reeling on panic mode.

Everything was spinning out of control, with no one to ask for help, nothing—

“Dia.”

It was not Yu; he did not have that polite but controlling voice. It was not her own either, not when Orpheus’ urges inside her mind kept on ringing incessantly, so different from the tone which that word exhibited. So she turned around as quickly as possible, and noticed the cold form of Thanatos looming above them as if it was about to strike.

Orpheus kept on playing. _He’ll hurt you_ , she said, and Hamuko would have believed it if not for the light that slowly enveloped her brother, pushing away his agony. Minato’s wound closed and healed.

She had to hold back her sobs of relief as Minato's harsh breaths turned back to normal. Her words flowed out, as her lips whispered 'thank you's, her hands kept on holding onto Minato's form as though he was her lifeline, her ignorance blinded her from the fact that Yu Narukami had knelt on his knees, overwhelmed by the reality that _he almost killed her brother._

Just because she ignored him does not mean that heavy fact escaped her mind.

* * *

The following day, Hamuko did not see Yu for the rest of the day.

To be fair, she and her brother did not attend school, since Minato was supposed to rest despite his recovery—not that the caretaker even noticed. The burnt wound healed up nicely, but Minato was still not through with fever, of which the caretaker thought he caught a cold. The girl insisted on staying, and the caretaker half-heartedly agreed, and Hamuko wondered if Minato had pulled some strings.

The caretaker, after all, had a soft spot on him.

The room where he resided was empty except for her and the grey-eyed boy. Makoto and the others were still at school, though now she really hoped that the young boy would stay behind. It was a foolish wish on her behalf, really, but between the other kids, him, and her brother, Hamuko would trade anything for an extra company.

Many items were lying on the floor, mostly belonging to other children. Hamuko knew by heart that none of them were her brothers.

Some people would look at his room and think that Minato is a tidy person. What they did not understand was that he never had that much belongings, even after he stayed with her and the Arisato. She used to scold him for that and usually proceed to lecture on how he should by personal things—make memories with them so that he may not forget.

But she instinctually knew that he had wanted to forget many things before settling down with her family. Minato didn’t say, and Hamuko didn’t pry.

(Not yet, at least.)

As she stood next to where he lied down, her eyes idly examined her sleeping brother. Sometimes her gaze would travel back to his shoulder blade, where Izanagi's thunder zapped him. But her lingering gaze wouldn't stay long at, not when her mind quickly recalled the dreadful feeling of rage and fear as she watched him hurt, and remembered the fearful look of Yu Narukami as he watched the result of his doing. She remembered him muted, a pair of shocked, fearful grey eyes stared on her as the realization dawned on him: he almost killed the one person whom Hamuko treasured the most.

She also remembered of how she ignored it completely, how she chose to silently berated it because Orpheus urged her so—a swirl of lightning and fire to put her rage down, but still unable to grind down the fear.

They kept boiling inside her, even as she sat down next to him.

"Imoto, stop that."

She briskly turned her attention towards Minato, whose grey eyes glared at her as if he accused her of doing something wrong. She did not back away from that stare; it was justified for her to hold her forgiveness for Yu, and Minato had no right to snuff that justification away from her.

Drifting away from her musing, Hamuko let out a weary sigh and smiled, "you're supposed to be sleeping."

Minato did not warm up to her smile and instead replied blandly, his grey eyes glinted impassively, "and you should not put much blame on Yu."

The young girl would have protested against that accusation, but Minato's shaking head stopped her from commenting even further. "It's written on your face. You're blaming him for the deed that he had no control over—but it's unfair, Hamuko," his gaze hardened, "we were learning. Things like this happen when we do."

The sleeping rage inside her suddenly felt like fire, and whatever musical solace Orpheus offered failed to provide her with sense of serenity. The hum slowly diminished into series of broken fragments, causing hurt, because _she had the right to blame someone who had almost taken him away from her_.

She fought back the tears that were slowly forming in the edge of her eyes (out of fury and sadness, she thought first). Her voice almost failed fighting the lump in her throat, as she countered quietly, "You almost died yesterday."

Minato's gaze softened in understanding as he looked more and more at fault, and it was really stupid of him to look like that, because the one who was at fault was _Yu_ and Hamuko refused to accept any other version of truth.

The image of Minato getting burned by lightning resurfaced. She bit her lips.

"I know. It scared you," he did not flinch under Hamuko's intense glare when he said it off-handedly.

"But please think about how things are now," he continued, his hands moved to grasp her hands, "Yu now know his limit. Makoto now knows that he could fix any of us should we ever need him. And I still keep my promise to you."

Hamuko knew that he was listing the facts that she could not deny, but she found herself avoiding that warm gaze. The grip on her hands tightened and she grimaced, forcing her to look back at him again. His eyes were filled with concern and quiet understanding despite his near impassive expression.

"Just... try to forgive him, alright. Don’t think about it much." he murmured and closed his eyes. For one moment, she thought that maybe Minato was leaving her forever. The mere thought almost set ablaze her fear again, but then she could feel gentle tug of his brother’s hands on her own. In the back of her mind, a calm melody settled, intertwining with her own.

She grasped his hands in response and his hands closer to her face in praying gesture. The held back tears finally fell, washing remains of hatred with guilt and peace. She could feel some of it still weighing her mind down, though, but at least part of her heart felt a little at ease.

* * *

The night felt chilly, she thought, and she half-wondered whether it was because of the yellow full moon hanging on the sky.

Even before that day, the green midnight never felt as chilling. Freaky, always, but not as cold as the first day of spring. It set Hamuko's senses unease, even just by looking outside through the window of the room only to realize that her paranoia was unfounded. There was nothing there; hence there was nothing to be afraid of.

That is, until the building shook.

She didn't waste another time to rendezvous with her brother, who had been shouting for her name to come down from her room. Everything in her being snapped into clarity as adrenaline coursed through her body. She noticed how his widened eyes blinked, and then focused—a sign of gratefulness that she was able to reach him on time.

He signaled her—and Makoto—to move out, and she obeyed, not out of panic, but for a purpose to prevent what happened before so that the tragedy would not repeat itself.

Then they ran, hand in hand, following whatever instinct that drove her brother to move. She did not ask, because it resounded with her own—the dread, fear, and anxiety, all combined in a single motive in the direction they were—mixed with bare whispers of frost.

(Frost. Figurative frost. It always felt that way sometimes lately. Whenever she thought of Minato, she would remember of ice, like how she remembered Yu of lightning. It did not feel like hers, but the vibe they gave… it reminded her strongly of Orpheus’.

She did not understand, and never tried to, because Hamuko is one girl who takes things as is.)

She knew enough they were going towards the shrine.

They kept on moving even as she felt Makoto's grip on her hand weakened and his movement slowed down. She could not blame him, because whatever strain she had from the running she had done, he might have it twice worse than her. Nevertheless, she tugged his hand, urging him to be strong and pull through. They had to make it to the shrine no matter what, because—

_‘Come, my other. Now is the time to fight.’_

—Orpheus, for the first time since that fateful night, had spoken in words she could understand. They rang within her and ignited confidence, despite all the fear and dread.

When she stood together with her brother and the little boy whom she finally could open up to, facing the monster of white mask and black shadow, somehow the fear stopped coiling; breathing came out easier, her mind felt much clearer, her guts felt lighter.

Everything felt _easy_.

* * *

It's a survival thing to fight this monster that had been chasing them, if she thought more about it. While they never really learned how to defend themselves, they knew enough to strike back when being attacked—to launch fire when the dog howled wind, to block with ice when that man growled fire.

To heal when one of them was hit.

Thanatos' eerie form loomed behind Makoto as it spewed power, erasing any hints of tiredness from her brother's brows. There were several cuts on his arms that had also disappeared—cuts that made her cringed every time his persona was hit. She had returned those hits with a series of her own fire attacks, but the shadow man only stood unfazed.

"We can't hit them like this," Minato whispered as he brought himself closer to her. "We need to try something else."

She was about to shout at him in frustration; Hamuko certainly did not need his obvious comments. But in the end, the word that came out from her lips was, "MOVE!!"

And he did, at least after she pushed him away, hard enough to make him staggered, leaving her in the mercy of another fire attacks, courtesy to the shadow pair. Orpheus—her Orpheus—had shielded her splendidly, but even she could feel the burning sensation that sent her mind reeling, making her screamed.

Her mind sparsely blanked out, but she remembered Minato's screeches and Makoto's panic voice in between hisses of flames and gale. Afterwards, she could also feel the refreshing power that did not surge from her own persona (perhaps it was Makoto, but really?), but it did not lessen the pain or the confusion ( _why can't the world stop spinning for once?_ ).

She was sprawled on the ground, gasping, when someone pat her shoulder and tried his best to pull her up (he tried, but the only one that helped her sit down on the ground was, well, herself). She felt the static shock dancing from the tip of his fingers and knew right then of the person who helped her sit down properly. So she turned, her red eyes searching for the boy’s grey, because there was no one whose touch could emit such static.

(Yu would blink at her owlishly when she said that, saying that he felt nothing else. But it seemed so absurd; statics should have travelled—should have been felt—between two points, so did that mean that she was the abnormal one?)

Yu Narukami gave her a weak smile, before another surge of energy flowed into her, tilting the world back to its proper place. She quickly stood up and looked at the young boy again. For one moment, she considered Minato’s hurt face when he unintentionally delivered his attack.

But then she remembered her brother’s request, Yu’s face as he silently asked for her forgiveness and his hallowed look after that horrendous practice.

He was about to speak—perhaps another bouts of ‘I’m sorry’—but Hamuko gripped his hand to gain his attention and beat him to it.

“No. You don't need apologize,” she nodded, “I forgive you, alright? What matters now is that Minato is fine now.”

Except she noticed from the corner of her eyes how he would not be, should the shadow man and his companion hit him again with another bout of fire attacks. Makoto’s Thanatos could only support them for long, after all.

“But first, shall we put him down first, Yu-kun?”

* * *

In the end, what they really needed was Yu.

They eventually learned that the shadow man staggered whenever he was hit by Minato's ice-based attacks, but it was pretty much ineffective whenever the dog quickly acted as his shield. Hamuko's fire spouts was clearly ineffective against the shadow, so her efforts to knock the man down were pretty much useless, though she did well enough to cause damage on the dog. Yu's thunder, however, was capable to unbalance the shadow's pet dog—the shadow man's shield—and created many windows of opportunity to take them down.

It did not take long for the pair to kneel and let out an opening. Hamuko did not waste another second to summon her Persona once again, and the rest of them followed suit.

"Now, together!" she cried and pointed her finger at the shadow. The half part of her self hoped that every frustration and dread that overshadowed her steps could fuel whatever flame she put to her last strike. Her attack hit both of her targets, mixing together with lightning and ice courtesy to Yu and Minato. She could hear the creatures' screams of agony, before they were reduced to wisps of black smoke.

It's gone, she thought. And this time, really for good.

"Good work," her brother said hoarsely, but still managed to let out a small smile. Only then she noticed how the strain of using their persona had turned him (because hers was as heaving as his).

"I'm just glad we get through that," she replied wearily, a small triumphant smile slowly graced her lips as she huddled closer with the rest of them, except for...

...Makoto, who appeared to stand steely and regarded them blankly. His expression remained vacant, unlike when he was fighting (he was more vibrant whenever they entered a fight, at least Hamuko knew this much, but surely some leftover adrenaline should have molded some smiles on that face, shouldn't it?). As if there was no joy—as if their victory was not worth celebrating.

The young boy let out a weary sigh—one she never heard before—that set her senses back on edge. Just like how they fought the shadow man and dog.

"...Makoto, are you alright?"

Blue eyes focused on her, and she witnessed how it turned darker—how they were able to bring out the dread that she had conquered when they fell their enemy together. She saw how Minato—tired Minato with his weak grip and exhausted relief—tensed beside her, as if he read similar dangers. The young boy seemed to shiver for a moment, and the words that followed seemed a lot colder than she ever remembered.

"I remember... why I must be here," he glanced at Minato, the dark blue eyes regarded him coldly... ruthlessly, "I remember why you are my target."

The dark wisps that they thought had dispersed from their enemy were coming back, but now they gathered around the young boy. For one moment, she thought she saw the silhouette of that shadow, which was superimposed on his feature. It was a stupid thought, really, because this young boy was too timid—too innocent—to portray that kind of dread and fear.

But then he summoned Thanatos, with its glistening white mask that made her stomach clenched, because it had the same shade as the shadow's mask.

(His was different. She knew this by heart, no matter how distanced their relationship was.)

The young boy smiled at them—at Minato, really—a kind of manic smile that did not suit him at all—but it aligned with all the fear that he had spewed all over.

"You... you cage me. That's why, so that I could be reunited with mother once more..." the persona hovering above him growled and raised his sword, "... I shall claim your life."

And Thanatos, growling Thanatos with its broadsword over its head, quickly launched at them with full intent to hurt.

* * *

When she saw the black silhouette of him, Hamuko wistfully wondered if this was what made Orpheus unsettled, because she saw not a flicker of compassion or curiosity in that being.

She felt dread.

(Perhaps it was a dread that had resided within her since the first time she heard of her brother’s miraculous survival. Or maybe, that Persona—as well as the boy—was the embodiment of fear and dread.)

But she remembered that feeling settled when they finished their conversation once, not long before, before the young boy saved the life of her brother. At first, she might have confused that feeling with Orpheus’ incoherent rambles in the back of her mind. But then, as they were faced with the black silhouette that might spell their doom, she remembered how that dread and fear settled in a slot right behind her fire, as if a reminder that dread is real.

Whenever she saw that azure eyes again, that feeling rang—and Orpheus’ notes would blare again to suppress her fear, just like a coping mechanism.

That feeling did not ring when she saw his darkened blue gaze.

She knew by heart that this person… He simply was not _Makoto._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it takes a bit longer than expected. I have been thinking best ways to end this fic, and, in the end, I finally decide to end this story with 5 chapters. Erp.
> 
>   
> 
> 
> There have been so many distractions and ideas that made me wanting to put things in here and there (in or even outside of this fandom). Moreover, I need to juggle writing this along several objectives (life and career, haha), so my concentration and my time are, well, limited. I'm sure you guys understand :")
> 
>   
> 
> 
> So, some particular pieces that contributed to making of this fic are as follows:
> 
>   * Never More (DJ Yummy REMIX) - AT1st ~Persona3 & Persona4~ Club Arrange
>   * Burn My Dread (Novoiski REMIX) - AT1ST Persona 3 & Persona 4 Dance Club Arrange OST
> 



	5. Prima Requiem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was nothing without them by her side.
> 
> Minato had to remind her that they will always be with her, no matter what the circumstances were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! It has been two years since I started this fic. Truth to be told, I have been writing this chapter since forever and promised you guys that this will be the last chapter. It kinda become not... I'm sorry.
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy ~~(after two long years, please forgive me.)~~

 

Hamuko did not exactly know when her eyes closed.

She did, however, know full well that if she finds herself in the same blue room which she had entered not so long ago, there was a good chance that she’s in a dream. The last time she was here, though, she woke up on a hospital bed afterwards. Now she wondered if her body was already back in a hospital at all.

So Hamuko blinked, again, trying to will the room away from her vision; the blue room remained to stay. The blue cushions still adorned the room, multiple dark doors still stood proudly and agelessly, and that small table was still positioned just across her seat. The only difference between this current scenery and the last one in her previous visit was the lack of presence sitting comfortably across herself.

“I welcome you once again, my dear, to the Velvet Room.”

She instinctually turned to her right, at the voice of that familiar person. There was nothing except for a black, bland wooden door, standing firmly three feet away, half-covered with velvety satin. It slowly swung open—the satin fell down in waves of blue—and showed beyond of _him_ in his white tuxedo. Gone was his brunette long-hair, replaced by a shorter cut that was so similar to Hamuko’s own.

He wore a different mask compared to their previous encounter. The mask still retained the original, porcelain white colour, but the eyeholes were white translucent white lenses, different from his previous one that lacks any. Even if his eyes were quite hidden from that filter, Hamuko swore that those eyes were _red_ , not _brown_.

(Something inside her twisted uneasily, because those eyes seemed too similar to hers.)

She held her tongue and chose to quietly observe him as he made his way to his supposed chair. His white mask glinted in the lowlight, like a flash of lightning that immediately drove her mind back to Yu.

She blinked. It dawned to her that she had no recollection of what happened prior to her current visit. Hamuko was sure that they—she, Yu, and Minato—were doing something important… something related to thunder, ice and fire. She groaned, her brows furrowed further as she tried her best to remember. But nothing came up from her memory.

The man looked at her knowingly, as though he would like to ask the questions which he knowingly already had. The silence, in a way, spoke volume to her—as though he was waiting for her to speak forward; to initiate the conversation rather than wait for his direction—meant that he knew, to some degree, of whatever happened to her. It grated on her nerves, but the only thing she could do was raise an eyebrow. “You know something that I forgot, don’t you?”

She could not see his expression underneath the mask, but Hamuko was pretty sure that he was entertaining himself (because, masked or unmasked, no one could even ignore the snorting sound under that mask).

“You are sharp,” he replied, his hands slowly met as he twined his fingers—a gesture of wariness. The white lenses were once again on her, and she felt that Philemon was carefully choosing his words.

“It is true. I know what you have forgotten,” he said, pausing for one moment. Those red eyes still gazed at her unsurely. But he continued speaking, afterwards, as his red eyes glinted resolutely, “because I’m the one who scrambles those, though just bits that had happened recently. I am talking about your memories, of course.”

She blinked, “…You’re joking.”

She could hear another snort (softer, this time), and Hamuko looked back at him incredulously, like a fish out of water. “That’s just—you’re impossible!”

Before she could go on further, the man raised his hand mid-air. Hamuko found herself stopping—her will pacified (and she had no idea how that man did _that_ )—as Philemon continued, "it is for your own good. We do not have much time and I need your undivided attention despite the current dangers that you are facing right now in the physical world.”

It hit her that the situation might be just… bad.

(She wondered what could be worse than a brother with lightning burns.)

That was the one time she stopped trying to bicker, not because of his statement but rather of the wariness reeking under his mask. The signs were there, she thought, such in the way he stopped carefully in each sentence, as if he was in doubt himself and concerned her to a degree.

As if she would make matters worse should she follow anything less than what he said—or would say.

She bit her lips in frustration, feeling too jumpy in her place because of Philemon’s wariness, and folded her hands. Her red eyes still retained the same intense glare just before she was about to blow up. “Well, Phil. I’m listening.”

She noted how her words made his tensed shoulder eased; perhaps he was expecting some sort of defiance. Hamuko was too tired to throw another tantrum for being treated unfairly, after all.

The man eventually straightened up and fashioned his tarot cards out of nowhere (she should not be surprised by then, but really, out of nowhere?) and let each and every one of them floated in the air both, forming a protective barrier. His hand moved, gesturing one of the cards to come forward and hover over his hand. Philemon flicked the card open.

She saw Death—and what she really felt from that card was ice cold wind that screamed of her brother.

The man gently picked the card and examined it carefully, if not almost lovingly, as though it was a valuable trinket. Split seconds later, his gaze wandered again to meet Hamuko's—a pleading gaze that made her gulped.

"You are destined to do great things, my dear. But you cannot accomplish your destiny alone," he spoke carefully, the Death Arcana floated grimly over his hand. "Protect your bonds. Protect them at all cost. Promise me this."

Hamuko sighed, out of relief. "You don't even have to ask me to protect my brother and my friend, Phil-san," she said with all of her seriousness. "They're all I have."

But Philemon's red eyes still looked at her distantly, and she knew then that it was not what he was trying to say. The man chose to be silent for the next moments, as if choosing his words carefully.

"I know, my favoured, but I fear you are too young to understand my point." he said, his hand crushing the Death Arcana in his hand before she could object to his action. Shrapnel of light gathered and reformed as her brother's persona, though its eyes were jet-black instead of red (it reminded her of Thanatos) and its wintry characteristic colder than her brother’s ambivalence. It set the Orpheus within her on edge, as if her inner self treated the persona miniature like any monster.

“Phil- _san_ , please…” she pleaded now, because she had no time to deal with this shindig. “What are you trying to show me?”

Philemon said nothing, only sparing a single glance at her direction. Not long after, the silvery Orpheus standing right next to him drew its harp and started playing a wintry tune that she recognized as Minato’s ice attack, which was _directed at her_ —

—she never saw it coming. She knew she was screaming at the top of her lungs as the whiteout hit her, surrounding her vision with ice and frost. Her Orpheus had gone out to defend her out of self-preservation (which only worsened her own predicament; inherently, her persona was weak against frost in the first place, therefore its presence only amplified the hurt). In between the hurt was _the noise_ —booms and crashes that deafened her thought processes—and it disoriented her so much that she just fell to the cold floor of the blasted blue room.

She just wanted this to end.

Perhaps the man heard her thought loud and clear, because she could feel his warm hand caressing the side of her head comfortingly. The gesture helped her focus on something other than the noise or the retreating cold. It spoke of favour and apology, accompanied with the man’s words that sounded so bland but withhold great depths:

“Don’t let the night steal your Death, my favoured.”

She knew he was talking about her brother, because the noises, even when it sounded like garbage, said something similar to that too: that _it_ will have her brother and friend’s life end. Hamuko was so _scared_ that she never noticed which one came first: the darkness or the end of every registered noise.

(She just wanted to keep her loved ones safe.)

* * *

Someone hit her side. She frantically opened her eyes.

The blue room was gone. Her right side still ached from the hit, and she really hoped that it did not leave a bruise. She was sprawled on the cold, icy (icy?), ground. The first thing she saw was Izanagi's white form hovering protectively in front of her, calling forward strikes of thunder at whoever its master's enemy was.

Yu's frantic face hovered over her own, panic deeply etched his face.

"You're awake! Thank goodness you're awake!" He sobbed. Her shoulder hurt, and only then she realized that Yu had been gripping her shoulder tighter than as deemed comfortable. Hamuko would have complained, but seeing him on the brink of tears, she stayed her words and chose to let the pain slide. Perhaps Yu saw a slight flicker of pain in her eyes, because he promptly released his grip and quickly mumbled broken ‘ _sorry’_ s. To that, she only shook her head.

The noises around her forced her to focus. Her red eyes were set on Minato's heaving back. She saw how weary his grey eyes were, how his persona flickered, mimicking his weathered form as he fought back to defend them. She also saw the dreadful sight of Thanatos looming over the youngest of them all. Makoto’s blue eyes glimmered with lunacy, as though its innocence from that day had been brutally vanquished.

It dawned on her that Philemon had called on her in the midst of this confusion—and she had unconsciously answered his calling. She would strangle the man later, when she had the chance; Makoto could have finished them off during her time off.

(Good thing that he did not.)

"Give up, Minato-san," he said melodically, his threat lacing each word like poison. In any other time, it would make her cower in fear. But Minato was in danger now, and nothing was scarier than being separated from her only family forever.

(Minato was the only person who stood between her, Yu, and the evil Makoto. She knew that his quiet demeanour hid his thoughts, making him harder for others to read on. But what he did not display on his face, he showed it in his eyes.

She looked at him and saw his courage, welling out of his being, as Minato stood before the embodiment of fear without flinching. Hamuko wondered how in the world he did so, because, as much as she loathed the young black haired boy across the playground, her hands shook whenever that fear gripped her insides.)

"...I don't understand... Why are you being like this?" her brother whispered so brokenly that she never knew he could even be so. His Persona hovered stoically behind him, which somehow made her wondered if Minato’s words ever reflect the truth that was his other self.

"Because this is easier," Makoto childishly replied. She could feel the air around her becoming stagnant, and she just knew in one glance how the young boy could spread terror simply by _uttering words_.

At his cue, Thanatos roared ferociously in his position as silky light began to envelop him and the boy, as though it was weaving a cloak of protection. But Thanatos never really let down his stance; those black eyes had been marking them as targets ever since his first summoning.

"You do not understand, Minato-san," he said, that voice sounded smaller that she used to hear, like a terrified sad thing. "I... I have to fulfil my promise. Mother… I must bring Mother back.”

 _You’re not making sense!_ She would have said, but Hamuko was too focused on the grim Persona hovering above, demanding blood like a beast. It did not move to attack, but something in those black eyes seemed to regard her once. For a moment, Orpheus’ humming inside of her dampened, like muted radio.

Something was done to her, and she did not like it.

The young boy let out a stifled sigh, the blue hue of his eyes finally turned black—obsidian black—as he finished his sentence in that cold, sadistic voice, “because Mother wishes us to be the beacon.”

Thanatos brought down its weapon and launched again towards them (all of them; Yu was still catching his breath. For how long had he been defending both of them, she had no idea). Hamuko quickly called forth the familiar, fiery presence in her mind and decide to strike first. Her Orpheus quickly pulled out its harp and started plucking strings. The grim persona was quickly surrounded in dancing flames, following the tune which his Persona played.

Hamuko could feel how the flame razed its target.

But she never foresaw how Orpheus’ flame was deflected away, twisted and returned back to her, before it was too late.

She heard Yu’s frantic screaming as the orange flames quickly raced back… screaming at her to do something. Flee, duck, defend—anything that could spare her from death at her own hand. But her feet failed to move, her red eyes only widened as she faced her doom. The only thing that came to her mind, as she closed her eyes in surrender, was how comforting the familiar hum of wintry ode springing within her, just before fire burned the rest of her flesh.

* * *

She was _dead scared._

It was stupid, really, because she knew what it felt like to burn in flames but still remained _fine_. Their previous enemy, after all, had proven them that she is impervious to fire attack. But when her own fire was turned back at her, the roaring sound of combustion and the crisp sensation as the fire burned bits of her hair made her stomach churned. The heat ( _there should be no heat_ _at all_ ) felt _real_.

(The last time she was burned, fire felt _cool_.)

She heard how Minato screamed and noticed how his Persona rushed to be her shield, standing between her and her flames, as it casted another one of its ice spells to block the fire. She could feel the flames being diverted to either of her side as the heat burned part of her sleeves (she could smell the mixed burnt of nylon and cotton). Then, she could hear the sound of metals clashing, whirring sounds of broken wheels—

—and then she opened her eyes.

Minato stood in front of her, showing his back. His shoulders slumped, unlike the image of quiet, playful, strength that he used to project.

Hovering in front of her was her brother’s Orpheus, hanging from the blade that skewered its chest. It wiggled on its pivot, grasping weakly on the blade like a broken machine trying to keep on running. Thanatos did nothing more than standing soundlessly; its black eyes reflected no fear as it struck down one of their own.

Dread. It filled every part of her mind as reality dawned on her.

From the edge of her vision, she noticed how Makoto’s blue eyes darkened further, blacker than the obsidian, and she was not sure that it could even go _darker_ —how his smile turned manic… how his voice shed the last bits of innocence, revealing the most atrocious tone that he had ever portrayed.

“You’re mine.”

And she screamed as Minato's half-conscious form fell forward and kissed the ground, her brother's Persona disintegrated into shrapnel of blue lights. Her head kept on pounding—

—as she felt the cold presence inside her mind faded slowly into nothingness, like a closing melody in a song’s ending. It felt hollow, she thought for a moment, and it made her inside twist.

The pounding inside her—the panic sensation that rushed throughout her entire body—never left her, never stopped distracting her focus, but Yu's battle-cry was ear-piercing enough that she could not help but focus on him—on the battle which he finally waged against the teal haired boy after his short break. It helped some clarity to return back—to make her realize what she must do.

She quickly blocked out Yu’s frantic battle cry and the resounding thunders crashing from the heavens. Her thoughts tunnelled only for her brother—how to make him live, how to preserve him, how to save him; there was only her and her brother.

Hamuko hastily rushed to his side, her hand flailing as she pulled him to her embrace. His skin lost its vigour, but his breathing was oddly normal despite his creasing brows. What was left of that wintry hum had been reduced into muted hum, and the change scared her more than any dread Thanatos could promote.

( _Please, God, don’t let him slip away from me—_ )

" _Niisan_ , answer me," she croaked (when had her voice turned so broken?) as she futilely tried to shake him out of unconsciousness. "Come on, wake up..."

His grey eyes fluttered open (and she wondered briefly if she had made that up, that perhaps she was dreaming for that single possibility because he should be _unable to move_ ), his lips formed a thin, weak smile that dispelled some of her fear.

( _Futile_ , part of her thought, _look at how pallid he’s becoming._ )

"...I'm glad you're alright."

Her breath hitched when she heard his voice. It was too soft, even for a soft-spoken child like him. What sounded like a quiet winter breeze—cold, freezing, but _strong_ —had lost its power.

And to think that he would even prioritize her safety despite his current condition made her want to laugh.

"And you're not," she scowled, but her words lacked its predictable harshness. "Why did you do that, you idiot! I could have handled that!"

(Part of her knew it was a lie; she was so reckless that, by the time everything unfold, it was already too late. She still could recall the heat, singing part of her skin… and the fear that entailed as she stared dumbly at her doom. That part of her wondered if there would even be leftovers of _herself_ had Minato not come to her rescue.)

Minato chuckled weakly (how he managed to do so, Hamuko could not even begin to fathom) and reached for her hand. His grip was... weak; she just wanted to bring him home, back to their orphanage where he could recuperate—Thanatos be damned—so that he could stay safe.

One lightning crashed near where they were, successfully stealing her attention from him. Yu was taking on Makoto in hopes to draw his attention away from both of them. Izanagi made several attempts to electrocute the dark Persona, though with less power. His movements were much lighter, most of them consisting dodges and several slashes without exacting too much damage.

He was stalling for both of them.

(Or perhaps he was exacting his hatred? She couldn’t tell.)

She narrowed a look at the young boy, noticing the hard gasps as he kept on ordering Izanagi to throw more bolts. The Persona followed his cue and brought down dozens of lightning from the sky. But with every bolt that rained down at Thanatos, she knew that Yu was slowly losing his strength. The young boy would not last much longer.

(The thunder inside her mind kept on lashing in rage and fear, similar to that creeping eeriness whenever Thanatos was around. Whenever it strike, her world spun, for they interfered with the song of her Orpheus. Given their current situation then, the last thing she needed was having another bouts of migraine.)

Thanatos launched a counterattack when Izanagi landed another feather-blow slash, which the grim Persona simply parried, and sent him flying in the air. The silver Persona crashed the ground with a boom, flickering just like how her brother’s Orpheus was before it met its end.

She feared for him. (Because she could not bear to see him falling down just like her brother; because she could not bear to have that electrifying sensation leaving a hollow spot in her mind.)

And Hamuko already had so much fear that it might have broken her.

(She could feel her trembling self screaming, Orpheus screeching as she forced her other self to seek something that that was already _gone_ —to become as what those hollow, flickering _spots_ inside her mind _were_. Hamuko felt how her mind transformed, her brother’s frame of thought being superimposed to hers, his fear mingled with sadness that she could not understand; how she experienced Yu’s rage despite his dwindling strength; how she conquered the fear that Makoto radiated despite being overwhelmed completely.)

But the blue butterfly that flew out of nowhere, dancing at the edge of her vision, promised a helping hand and a soothing silence. So she accepted and basked in its glory, her mind seeing things which her companions could not.

* * *

“You are destined for great things. He did say that to you, didn’t he?”

She blinked. The sound of lightning kept on booming, like a beating battle-drum next to her Orpheus’ choir. The cold windy trail of winter followed suit in harmony in the back of her mind, similar to how fear accompanied them in gentle tune of disruption (the only thing that did not come in harmony, at all). But when she focused her attention to the young man, still wearing the same white butterfly-patterned mask that is similar to his boss', sitting on the sofa before her, she could feel her mind shifted again, forming an empty, hollow spot to accommodate another presence in her mind.

 _Bonds_ , she thought, _this was what Phil meant._

“Naoya…?” She asked puzzled. He stiffened at the mention of his name, pausing for a moment before reaching for his mask to tuck it away. Despite being brighter than she remembered, those violet eyes looked more haunted. The young man held his gaze on her as he strode close—close enough for her to notice the weary lines on his faces, and the glowing violet hue that made his eyes shone.

“Philemon sent me,” he said. His right palm opened, and she could see a blue card floating over his hand. “He has another gift for you.”

She unsurely took the luminous blue card, which glowed brighter when the tip of her fingers grazed its edge. Hamuko yelped out of astonishment as the card dissolved into bluish lights and gathered around them in a circle. For one moment, she thought that maybe she had doomed them all. But she let the thought slide; Naoya did not even flinch at the change, after all, and she trusted him about these things.

She looked at him expectantly at him for explanation. But before she could utter a word, those blue orbs of light gathered and reformed the silhouette of her Persona. It blocked her from looking at the young man, but she could still feel his lingering gaze as those violet eyes remained level. Her other self shifted to the side, to which she quickly bade her thanks, and realized the little things that she missed about this young man.

There was sadness lining his facial features that made him older—like Philemon, she thought. It was as if he was longing, trying to reach out for her, but afraid that he might set off series of unforgivable rules; that Philemon might have some sort of retribution if he do whatever it was.

(He wouldn’t. Hamuko just knew that Philemon _wouldn’t._ She knew it in her gut.)

“Just remember your feelings for them, Hamuko-chan. Feel them. Don’t think. Just like how I shall rush to your side again whenever you need me…” he whispered softly. She could feel the echoes of icy winter turned solid, and another of Naoya’s whisper as Orpheus’—her brother’s Orpheus—melody sang within her.

“…they shall rush to yours as well.”

In that very moment, her Orpheus’ attire transformed, mimicking the color palette of her brother’s. As the sight of velvet room vanished all around her, along with her other self, Hamuko can only hear the silver Orpheus’ whisper ringing within her mind: _I am thou, thou art I._

* * *

When she came to, she realized that they were transported to another place. The vast room which all of them were in then was larger than the previous playing field. But the thick shadow surrounding them prevented her from estimating its vastness. There was a stage light that kept that shadow away, hovering over her so highly that she was not even sure that it is simply a lamp.

She focused her thought to his brother, who leaned at her to support his own weight. They had been… standing, even when she remembered sitting on the ground and having his head on top of her lap. Minato’s eyes were closed in heavy concentration, his breathing laborious as if he had been running too much laps. Her thought scrupulously wandered to the silver-haired boy who was determined to protect both of them from harm, even when the danger was coming from one he considered as his friend.

For all the things Makoto said, the silver-haired boy still looked up to him as his friend, despite the short amount of time that they spent together. Hamuko did not have to ask him to know; the beating sound of thunder in her mind conveyed his clear confusion; he did not want to fight, that was why his hits were minimal at best.

“Weak.” Makoto stated as Thanatos deflected another slash of Izanagi’s _naginata_ with a wave of his sword. Yu’s Izanagi flickered, before dispersing into nothingness, leaving its master with heavy breaths and fearful glare. The depth of those obsidian orbs reflected endless remorse, and yet Hamuko thought that she perceived some variant of incomprehension. “You are all so weak… so fragile, and yet still you fight… even when you are so _afraid_...”

"Why do you stand in my way," Makoto said with curiosity of a child—a kind of tone that told her of emptiness and danger. The wintry ode that belonged to Minato was dulling, as if he was escaping from her grip. Her brother sagged further on her lap, and she could see the effort he had to put just to open his eyes.

"He is me and I am him,” he declared, and Minato subtly shifted. Hamuko perked at the faint movement and pulled him to her side in order to get better view of his worn-out face. She focused every part of her senses to him, tuning out whatever was exchanged between Yu and Makoto, until there was nothing else but Minato’s grey eyes, warm but tired smile, and the echo of his other identity at the back of her mind (so fleeting and weary, as if ready to fade into silence—)

“Sister,” he whispered so quietly that she needed to strain her ear in order to follow through his words. Hamuko nodded, giving him her utmost attention, and gained a faint smile in return, “could you please… stop Yu?”

 _‘What do you mean, brother?_ ’ she mentally asked him that, but then she tilted her face so that she could gain proper view of Yu. There was something very wrong about happening, one that made his countenance contort in irrational anger and judgement. She did not exactly understand what, but she could smell the foulness in the air—the disorder and chaos that made her want to curl to herself.

Perhaps she understood enough of his brother’s words.

"Yu-kun, enough!" She screeched, but her words did not reach the other boy. Izanagi kept on dancing with his blades, inflicting myriad of damages towards Thanatos, which replied in kind by launching some other attacks of its own. Gone were any traces of Yu’s doubt, replaced only by hatred that Hamuko knew not whence it come. “Yu-kun!”

“Sister…” Hamuko’s heart froze at how faint his plea was (how weak his grip on her hand, how tired he looked at her) and shifted her attention back to the brother leaning on her side. The wintry ode residing within her, the one that reminded her of his brother wherever he was, urged her to listen closely… of the things left unsaid—

—of the words belonging to Minato Arisato, whose life was siphoned by one Makoto Yuki because _weren’t they one and the same_?

"Can you… stop them..." he smiled weakly, and heaved a smile, the last of his voice was already stolen by the night avatar, "Makoto... he just needs more friends... Yu-kun too...”

(She can feel his presence, standing just at the hollow slot of the mind. He was quiet and luminescent, a breeze of coolness to go along with her fire. But the intensity of that power seemed to wither in time, until there was only a vestige of Minato’s—the blue swan mask which he used during the Persona game—

—and the remains of Orpheus—her brother’s—whose form had changed from that marionette to the human form. It smiled at her, filled with peace and acceptance.

‘ _I'm glad,_ ’ it hummed, a cool breeze that still tried to soothe her heartache, ‘ _that you took me in with mom and dad. I'm glad you could call me your brother… that I could become part of your family_.’

Hamuko wanted so much to speak, but even as the owner of her own mindscape, she cannot even let her voice be _known_ , as if some parts of her prevented her to _say the things that matter_ —to tell this boy that she did so too. Perhaps her thoughts reached him, for his blue eyes lit up with joy.)

Minato closed his eyes, his hand dangling limply, and Hamuko’s world cracked.

"Niisan?” she asked again, shaking the boy a little bit to have his attention. There was no response.

(The crack became a wedge.)

“Niisan....?" Yet Minato remained still. Hamuko took a hitched breath, her hand desperately gripped his, trying to search for a sign of life. But there was none.

The truth toppled her frame to the floor, her hand gently laying her brother down with her, as she fixed his bangs to get a better view of Minato’s face. Nothing happened—nothing but the heartache that she buried within resurging back in broken words, nothing but a muted ode of a cold night that claimed her brother’s life, nothing but solitude.

(The wedge formed thousands of other tiny cracks, a sure destruction of her world. But Orpheus, calm and loyal persona of his, was still there with blue mask in his hand… and a smile on Minato’s face as he walked to her and placed it over her face.)

"Don't just—don't leave me... alone... Just—”

(She looked at him, his smile, through the blue filter of Minato’s swan mask and felt the cracks resealed in ice and frost. ‘ _I have been and will always be with you, Hamuko._ ’

Deep down, she knew those words to be true. Her fire knew that it was _the truth,_ for no one can lie here—not within the depths of unconsciousness, where true heart lied.

‘ _You just need to say my name._ ’

Hamuko never felt more like a fool at that moment.)

She held her breath and forced her stuttering to _go away_ , because Hamuko had no reason to fear solitude, not when her own brother had entrusted with her _his tune_ , long before this farce had started. All she needed to do was to focus on that song, muted as it might be now, and she would feel him with her.

All she needed to do was to invoke the _name_.

“—ORPHEUS!!"

* * *

Calling forth another’s Persona when it was not her own felt weird, she thought.

To be precise, it was not a matter of calling another’s Persona and exploiting its qualities, like wearing a cape. In her case, it was like meshing Minato’s thoughts and qualities—his love, his apathy, his longing, his quietness—into her own person and realizing that she had not changed because of it. It was still Orpheus—hers—who came to answer her call, clad in Minato’s color (silver; it should have been Yu’s color, shouldn’t it?) and equipped with plain gigantic harp instead of its usual heart-shaped one. There was also a blueish visor covering its red eyes, its feathery edges a reminiscence of the blue swan mask from Phoenix Featherman R.

There was also something else.

She had noticed that there was something off in this whole battle, and she would not realize that fact if Minato did not point it out sooner, with his last breaths. Yu Narukami had never been so aggressive, not in the short time they spent together; Makoto Yuki was stoic boy that would rather stay away than hurt a fly. Why would both of them turned crazy with aggression then? _How_?

Minato’s forlorn chuckle rung in her mind, the sound of a ghost fading away before its last descent to the underworld, ‘ _because I see him pulling the strings, my dear sister, the evil one. And you can see it too, now..._ ’

So she looked, through the blue filter that was a part of his mask—through the blue that tainted her red eyes—and saw the shadows blotching the frames of both Thanatos and Izanagi as they clashed again. Above them hung the limbs of thousand evils, the eyes of sorrows and desperation, and tendrils of aggression that drove their vision jet-black with anger and rage.

‘… _the face of the Crawling Chaos_.’


End file.
